Dead Diary
by Hoobajoo
Summary: An accountant is at work when the outbreak occurs and documents his experiences in a diary.  Now out of the city and soul-sick off all the death and horror, is survival worth the effort?  Based on my life circumstances.
1. Chapter 1

Captain's Log 22/3/2012: First entry

I have to admit, I'm not entirely sure what this diary is supposed to achieve. I don't intend to die, so I don't particularly want to start by saying "If you ever find this diary..." This diary I think is more for me than for someone else to read.

I always found back in school and university that, even though I could read a book and understand what it was talking about well enough (e.g. accounting, economics etc) I never really made it stick in my head or make real sense of any undertones or inter-relationships with other points until I wrote it down.

I could read it as many times as I wanted, but it wasn't until I wrote it down that really understood.

It's been years since I finished school and it funnily feels like I'm back again. Some past life, but then this is a zombie apocalypse so it's a mixture of old and new I suppose.

I'm rambling, better get down to business and document what's been happening. Maybe this will be an "If you ever find this diary..." diary after all. One for the archives.

I'm currently sitting in an office chair at my work in the Melbourne CBD (Central Business District for any tourists). Australia if I need to be any more obvious. Level 32, corner of Lonsdale and Exhibition Streets. I'm a tax consultant. I work(ed) in a team of 9 and all of them (excluding myself obviously) are dead or at least I presume they are dead.

The movies never really definitively said what turned people into zombies, but it looks like in real life it was some sort of flu virus. In the past week, everyone came down with bad flu. On any given day, half the team were claiming sick days and the other half that was here were sick as well, but powering through. I was sick and stayed home at first, got better and came in to work, and then all hell broke loose.

I'm really puzzled because it seems that everyone seemed to die from this super flu so suddenly and within such a short window of almost co-ordinated time. I was lucky it seems, but my wife and two daughters were very sick last I saw them this morning and I'm presuming they didn't make it. My wife's face was a pale grey, but she was at least up on her feet. Aya (3) and Milly (5) were bed ridden. The news on the TV said to only bring them into the hospital if they were coughing up blood or convulsing. Otherwise it was likely just bad flu. Hospitals were overwhelmed as it was, so we decided to keep them in bed. My wife (Lalie) was adamant I should go to work. "I'm alright." She said. "I'll let you know how the kids are doing."

I called numerous times when things got bad. People were panicking in the streets and I tried my phone. I had to call over 15 times before I finally got a ring on Lalie's phone and she didn't pick up. I tried again about another 15 times and got through once more with again no answer.

I'm not going to pretend they are alright. All the reports on TV and the internet are showing complete chaos. End of the world scenario.

I know they are dead.

Nevertheless, I'm obviously not happy about it. You quietly decide within yourself when your first baby (Milly) is born "I'll die for you if it means you'll be safe." This promise was re-affirmed when Aya was born two-ish years after. I try not to, but I can't help picturing my little angels being ripped apart by those monsters.

Aya was once at the beach on a windy day and sand got in her eye. She was about 20 metres away from me and she panicked and screamed her guts out.

Even just on that beach, scared and her eyes stinging, her scream tugged at me and I ran to her. I comforted her, cuddled her to me and got her out of the wind. She eventually calmed down and insisted on hugging me the entire car trip home.

I can hear that ear-splitting scream again, but this time I'm not there and she's being devoured and ripped to shreds.

Goddamn fucking... bastards!

But that's the rub. For all I know, Aya and Milly were killed by Lalie. Maybe she turned and killed them. My poor little defenceless babies torn apart by their own mother...

I have to change the subject or I'll go mad.

As I said, my current situation is that I'm in my work building. Usually there's about 50 or 60 people working on the floor. When I came in this morning, there were probably only about 10 people in. After starting work at 9, we all huddled round the kitchen TV watching the reports. Chaos. Riots. Death. We were all in shock.

All of a sudden, a guy charges us and bowls us over like its ten pin bowling. He bit down on Rita's face and she screamed. Someone jumped on him, but I'm ashamed to say my immediately instinct was to run away and that's what I did along with 5 others. We ran around to the other side of the floor panicking. The whole time I could hear screaming. Really desperate, horrified and pleading screams. Then they stopped and the five of us huddled behind someone's desk like little children.

I regain my composure as best I could, whilst the others cried and tried to make sense of what just happened. Given the news I could see what was going on and looked for a weapon. The best I could find was a metal ball point pen and that was when the zombie appeared around the corner and saw us. It charged and I knew what I had to do.

I charged him, kicked him down with a foot to the chest and stabbed him in the eye without hesitating. The pen went all the way in up to my fingers, right up to the clip thing on the pen through the soft and gooey tissue and he went limp. There was blood everywhere. All over him and all up my arm.

I've never done something like that before and didn't really know what to expect, but I guess I was just so psyched up on adrenaline.

The others screamed at me that I was a murderer, but I ignored them and pulled the pen out again and went for the kitchen. The zombie had bitten out Rita's throat and ripped the face off the other guy. Again blood was everywhere. It smelled warm and foreign. I'd never been anywhere like a morgue or an abattoir before and I felt sick. The others had followed me and were still calling me a murderer when Rita suddenly sat up and moved for us. I swear it was the most bizarre thing I'd ever seen. She wasn't moving like a stunted robot. Rigour mortis was a fair way away yet I suppose. She didn't move like a person either. No minor adjustments for balance or comfort. She just rose up. Just moved and had eyes for me, being the closest target. The other dead guy also did the same, and Rita charged me. I think the others behind me ran away, but all my adrenaline charged attention was focused on my attacker. I desperately wanted to run away like my co-workers, but I knew we'd all die if I didn't stand my ground and do something.

Rita ran at me, grunted weirdly and I led into her with a gut kick causing her to fly across the room and slide towards the linoleum floor to the floor to ceiling windows. The other guy charged as well and I managed to grab his shirt collar and swing him around me in Rita's direction. He crashed into her, bumped against the window with a dull thump and that gave me an idea. A barstool was next to me. I sat on them all the time to eat my lunch at lunch hour and I remembered they had steel legs. I picked it up and charged them like a battering ram.

Whilst I connected squarely with the guy's head, it wasn't enough. I didn't crack inward, but did appear to stun it. Rita however was scrambling for my legs and I had to semi dance my way out of her desperate arms to back off.

I needed to get that window broken and push them out. I grabbed another barstool and charged again. This time I must have charged with everything I had because the stool smashed into the guy's head again and carried through breaking the window.

Luckily I think the amount of force I applied was only just enough to break the window because I didn't simply sail through the threshold and start tumbling out into the air. The zombie guy fell through and disappeared and I tripped off to the side into the window frame, a steel pillar. I managed to keep my footing though and caught Rita as she lunged for me. She was wearing some sort of jacket, which was fortunate as the lapels were fairly easy to grab and swing her around me and keep her off balance. As with the dead guy, she was soon flung out the window as well. I'm not sure how I didn't slip up during the whole dance as the floor was smeared with blood.

I was strangely elated and disgusted at the same time then and there. I had just killed three zombies. I had never done anything particularly heroic in my life and it seems so unlikely. I was an accountant. A TAX accountant. A computer nerd. Never exercised. Mild mannered family man.

Nevertheless I had done it and wasn't sure what to make of it.

I went back to find the other guys and found them huddled around the same desk as before.

I told them what I'd done and that it was safe, but they recoiled from me. To be fair I was dirty with blood so didn't look the part of a reassuring angel.

I had told them it was safe, but I had no basis to say that. I grabbed another pen and walked around the floor looking for others. The floor was deserted apart from the now 6 of us. I found two corpses, horribly mutilated. I dragged the bodies by the feet, trying my best to both keep an eye on them in case they woke up as well as avoiding looking at so much disgusting blood and gore. I dragged them both one at a time to the kitchen and pushed them out the window.

It was improvised, but it had to do. A quick plan.

With a kitchen knife in hand I systematically checked the toilets and lift foyer. I found no one. Normally these areas required a security pass to get through, but it looked like they were unlocked. I had my pass on me anyway. The lights were working it seemed as well.

The stairwell was unlocked and a brief peek into the threshold showed it was empty. I couldn't hear anything. The lifts were not working. The stairwell appeared to be the only access point to our floor.

I returned to my scared co-workers again. I didn't know them well at all. They worked in Risk Management, whom I had nothing to do with.

This time they had a little more composure and asked me what happened. I told them what I had done and that we were momentarily safe.

They asked what we should do and I tried my best to think of a plan just there and then, but the adrenaline must have worn off and I crashed. I started crying. That was when I thought of Lalie and the kids and I couldn't function after that.

I then vomited in the corner. Twice.

An announcement came on over the building's PA system helpfully telling us that we were in an emergency situation and to stay put. We were to report in any incidents on the red warden phone in the lift well, which I tried to do, but the phone didn't seem to work. I couldn't hear anything on the other line and heard no dial tone. I couldn't tell if they could hear me.

It's been 2 hours since then and the TV is still working. We're all sitting in the kitchen again watching the chaos unfold. The news reports are really scary.

It's all so strange and unlikely.

Unlikely? Of course it is.

Who the hell expects the end of the world to happen? To actually happen?

I'm sitting at a table writing this down now, trying to make sense of what's going and trying to come up with a plan. I'm the impromptu leader of our little bunch. I've posted someone to stay by the doorway to the lifts and watch for anyone coming through the stairwell doorway.

We've tried the phones, but they're down. The email and intranet system is also down. Computer's still have power though. I can't think of any way to contact someone without going to another floor. Too risky at the stage. Maybe someone will come to us.

The view out the window is surreal. We're 32 floors up and the chaos below is there, but we're so removed from it. Like watching ants. I can't tell who's human and who's turned turned down there until I see someone being chased.

What are we gonna do?


	2. Chapter 2

Captain's Log 22/3/2012: Second entry

My last entry finished about 12 and now it's 5pm. So far it looks like I'm writing according to meal times.

The power and plumbing has gone out. Went out about 30 minutes ago.

I've earned some credits within our group because I had ordered them to stockpile our resources in case we had a long stay on our hands or the power went out. We went around the floor and systematically searched every desk and cabinet for food and drinks. Nuts, fruit both fresh and dried, chocolate and muesli bars. There was a fair amount actually. The fridges were half full of pre-made lunches (stir fires and salads) and yoghurt and milk.

I also got the team to fill every glass and bottle they could find with water.

Now that both the power and plumbing are gone, it was good I got them to do all of that.

And it also kept them busy while they processed what was going on.

It's dinner now and we're all strung out and hungry. We didn't have lunch. No one felt like eating. Given the fridge is not working anymore, we're eating all the fresh stuff first. My stomach is probably still too nervous for all the milk and yoghurt that will undoubtedly expire by tomorrow. I don't want to vomit again.

The mood is gloomy. Everyone (myself included) has had time after this morning's scares to think about friends and family. No one has felt like talking and I barely know my group's name. We all introduced each other before to those that didn't know each other. I'm good with faces, but rubbish with names.

I've been thinking of my wife and kids and been trying in vain to call them again. Now there isn't even a dial tone.

At the moment, we're stranded. We haven't heard another announcement over the PA and we haven't tried any of the other floors, above or below. I am reluctant. Before we grabbed a mop from the storeroom and tapped on the window of the floor below through the broken window. I'm afraid of heights, but thankfully Tom isn't and wanted to do something so he lay on the floor with his torso our into the air tapping on the window below. We held his feet obviously and tied him to pillar with a cord in case we lost our grip. He whacked the window pretty hard for long enough for someone to react and no one did. That is until Tom freaked out and shouted for us to pull him in.

He saw two feet shamble to the window and that was enough. He is convinced it was a zombie.

I'll take his word for it.

We've got no idea if there's only one zombie down there or more as he only saw one zombie and didn't hang around (pun intended) to wait and see if there's any more. He doesn't want to look again.

Based on that, I've drilled into our team that someone at any given time has to be watching the stairwell door. It's not locked and we couldn't find a key. It opens outward so we can't shove a chair under the door handle. I jerry rigged an electrical cord, tied between the door knob and a pillar in the nearby toilet block. If the cord holds, no one can open the door. Obviously if someone knocks, we can open it and re-tie it.

Obviously no one has knocked. There's also been no more zombies on our floor. It's quiet and getting dark.

The city below seems peaceful now. There's no traffic noise and the screams that wafted between Melbourne's attempt at skyscrapers have died away. Literally I would think. Ordinarily even with through the insulation of the window, at my desk, it's easy enough to hear tyres squealing or police sirens, but now there's hardly anything.

Whenever I look at the streets below, I see people walking around. I know they're zombies, but it's deceptive from up here. There's signs of dead people though. There's dark smears on the asphalt and crashed cars. Windows in neighbouring apartment towers are smashed.

Speak of the devil! Someone is waving to us from an apartment window across the way. We don't have binoculars or anything, but it looks like a couple. They look like the only living activity thus far and we can't see anyone through the windows in the neighbouring office tower. Usually we can see right into their meeting rooms, but it's empty now. No zombies. Not sure what that means.

Seeing some other life, however distant and removed is reassuring. I smiled.

For the first time today, I have smiled.

And it felt good.

And on that note, it's time for dinner. Cold salad and fried rice with milk and yoghurt. I think I'll even have a bit of milk!


	3. Chapter 3

Captain's Log 23/3/2012: third entry

I'm surprised I seem to have slept well enough last night. I took second watch last night and I must admit I was hard work sitting there in the dark replaying over and over in my head my family dying. I feel guilty to have written them off so fast. I should be moving heaven and earth trying to find them, yet I've resigned myself to the crushing probability that they are dead and even if they aren't how the hell do I get to them without getting killed myself and therefore achieving nothing anyway?

I also can't help but admit that the current turn of events has me a bit afraid of the dark. Sitting in the hallway watching the door with my kitchen knife in hand, I couldn't help but imagine a horde of monsters pouring in through the door or one creeping up behind me silently. Rita's eyes are stuck in my head.

Soul chilling dead eyes that just wanted to kill me. No emotion, no soul. Just raw perverted death.

It's morning now and the power, plumbing and internet are still dead. Not that we particularly expected them to be up. Not that we expected some magic troop of superhuman army guys to dance in on rumbling tanks and save us while we slept to then wake and find all was rainbows and unicorns.

It's funny not having the internet. My routine was always to wake up, get to work and then catch up on the news on the web. Now there's nothing. There's just the window looking down on the quiet streets.

I'm confused about how quickly this has all happened. I would have though the chaos and mayhem would have lasted longer. Complete annihilation of a city population doesn't just happen so quickly like that.

Or does it? What benchmark do I have to compare it against?

I have to figure out what the plan for today is. We're gonna sit down for breakfast and talk it through. I wouldn't be surprised if the group simply leaves it up to me. So far no one's shown any leadership and I hate leading.

Maybe there's something reassuring in being told what to do.

By the way, I also felt guilty and troubled over my own family. Mum, Dad, 3 brothers and two nephews (and their mum). I've written them off as dead. I've had my cry.

Anyway, brekkie time.

XX

OK, so today's plan is to explore the stair well. We agreed that everything seems to have gone to hell and we are currently sitting in a makeshift prison. At some point our food will run out and we will be up shit creek. We need to secure further supplies and secure accommodation. As it is, with 6 people to feed, we have estimated we only have enough food for two days.

We've got to do something, or at least two of us do.

It is at the point that a summary of who we are would appear useful for you, dear reader. We are as follows:

Myself (Ben)

Tom: the window with the mop guy. 34 years old. He's a pretty fit guy and he's sort of been my right hand man thus far.

Lisa: 22 year old graduate. Quiet.

Robin: 47 year old fat lady. Becoming opinionated and thus far hasn't contributed apart from guard duty. Also eaten the most. I don't like her.

Opera: yes that's right, her name is Opera. 39 years old. Well meaning and nice.

We decided that we need to check out the floor above and below and scout the stairwell. And by we, it's going to be Tom and I.

We did another stock take of supplies and found some fairly heavy steel bars in the storeroom. I think they'd be handy to give a zombie a good whack and crack some skulls. Will have to wait and see.

Tom and I are ready to go. We're gonna scout the floor below first.

XX

Well, never mind yesterday morning, that was the single most scary thing I've ever done in my life. Same for Tom.

Yesterday's encounter was a surprise, but this time we knew what we were in for and therefore anticipation played havoc with my nerves.

We went down and opened the stairwell door to the floor below. The lifts were clear and clean. We crept around, trying to peek through door ways and windows before we went anywhere. The main door is all glass looking into the kitchen and was empty. We tentatively opened it and quietly stepped into the open.

Still empty. Tom followed my lead and we snuck around to the main floor. I peeked around the corner and saw a dishevelled woman shuffling around. She appeared by herself. There was also a clear space between us and her. My nerves were shouting at me to run away, but I mustered up the courage to attack, but I had a niggling paranoid doubt. I didn't want to sneak up and crack her across the head only to find she was a living person.

So I stepped out into the open and said, "Hey."

She turned quick smart and there was no doubt she was a zombie. She ran towards me and I nearly shit my pants on the spot.

I used the technique I had used before and since practiced. As she approached, I kicked her in the chest and she fell back onto the floor.

Tom and I had drilled into each other agreed before hand what would happen next. I moved first, but Tom quickly followed. We simply pummelled her face in with the steel bars.

It was disgusting, revolting and exhilarating. I hated it and loved it at the same time. I wanted to never do that again and do it again at the same time. I felt alive.

Then I felt fear.

We had made a fair bit of noise. I expected a crowd of zombies to suddenly flood around the corner, but thankfully none did. However, we toured the floor and did find plenty of bodies. No more zombies, but plenty of bodies.

It was horrifying. Happy the floor was cleared, we searched the kitchen for food and filled a backpack with mostly bread, biscuits, fruit and cheese. Other knick knacks as well. We weren't fussy. And there were some water bottle and some bottles of wine.

We took our haul upstairs and we were all so happy. We conquered and pillaged felt on top of the world.

It seemed too easy.

Tom and I couldn't shut up about our achievement. We were so pumped.

I wanted to do it again.

So we did.

This time we went to the floor above.

Whatever adrenaline flowed through my veins must have dissipated, replaced by cold fear as we approached the stairway door and peeked through the little mesh window. One lone zombie from what we could see by the lifts, but we couldn't see all of the space outside. I tried to wait and see if any others might shamble into view, but the one outside turned and saw me. It was a tubby middle-aged man, balding and wearing a suit.

Our eyes met and my blood surged. Fear and adrenaline choked me again as the zombie run to the door and started pounding on it. This was not what I had planned and I wasn't sure what to do. Tom was looking at me, "What do we do?" he half shouted at me in a panic.

BANG BANG BANG!

The noise was so loud, I was afraid the door might break inward.

I got Tom to brace himself against the door and open it a little. The zombie scrambled through as best it could, but I was ready. I shoved the but end of the pole into it's face repeatedly as hard as I could and it fell away. Tom flung the door open and I charged out to pummel it in the face. I got time to one solid whack before I spotted another zombie charged at me. I charged him back, side stepping at the last second and tripping him up with the pole. I raised my weapon and whacked him in the head with everything I had and the thing's skull opened up like a watermelon, bit of brain flying out.

Thankfully, the first zombie was lying still on the floor, just as dead as his comrade and I had enough state of mind to quickly check my surroundings. I couldn't see anything. My heart was racing, looking for threats, expecting the zombie flood to come around the corner and flatten me, but nothing . It was quiet.

Too quiet, as I noticed the stair well door was closed.

I ran to it and Tom was gone.

I raced back up to our floor and I found him freaking out with the others.

I was so full of anger I almost attacked him with my pole, but he was shouting at me that he was sorry and the other ladies were screaming at me.

I didn't even hear what they said.

I turned and stormed off.

I was high on violence and bloodlust and I had to get a grip.

I eventually did calm down and Tom apologised to me properly. I accepted it because I could understand. I was still angry, but it's not like I'm a super hero. You know what I did whilst I was trying to calm down?

That's right, I vomited again.

I'm so tired.

I don't feel like conflict right and I need to think again.

We still need to clear that floor and I do intend to go back up, but I need Tom to have his head screwed on. He assured me it was just because it didn't go the plan.

I think I can trust him for round two.

We're not doing it now though.

XX

Yes we are and yes we did.

Tom and I mustered up the courage to go back up and try again. We needed to clear that floor and get some buffer between us and whatever else was in this building.

There were three more up there, but this time we were measured and took them out as a team. I kicked them down and Tom finished them off.

I'm so tired now. These troughs and spikes in adrenaline are really draining and the vomiting doesn't help.

I'm going to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Captain's Log 23/3/2012: fourth entry

It's mid morning.

Despite what happened yesterday (we cleared one floor above and below us), we're depressed.

I think after yesterday's rush, we've all had a chance to sit down and try to process what's going on and what's happened. As well as our survival prospects.

Whilst I've been aware of the fact and been quietly stressing and thinking about it, we are stuck in an office building in the city. Whilst we have some security now, we are surrounded by zombies. We are also running out of food and water. I had a look out the window and whilst it's overcast, that's no guarantee of rain. The plumbing is out and we've got some water bottles still full and the kitchen sinks full, we'll run out at some stage.

As for food, whilst we have a bit at the moment, that will surely run out and there'll only be so much food to scavenge from fridges and people's desks. AND that scavenging requires us to clear out floors. Every time we have to have physical encounters with the undead, there's the chance of being bitten or things otherwise going wrong. The thought of being eaten alive by one of those filthy angry zombies is gut wrenching and takes away my appetite.

Speaking of appetite, whilst we have food, it's not going to last as long as I thought. It's surprising how much you eat everyday. I never really noticed until today how much one person eats. And there's 5 of us.

I though we had enough to last a few days, but it's more like two.

Besides all that though, it's clear to me that we'll need to leave this office building at some stage and escape the city. We look out the window and we'll either see empty space, no zombies, or we'll see a whole mob shuffling about semi-aimlessly at what looks like 100 at a time.

We had a talk about what to do and it didn't go down well. Rita is opinionated and her opinion is that we should stay and wait for help to come, because that's what the PA system announced before everything went dead. I try to be a realist and explain the situation (i.e. finite food and water, surrounded by zombies). But she won't have it. Even given the fact that we haven't heard anything from anyone else. The apartments across the view still have people in them, but not many and we haven't found a way to effectively communicate. We don't know their situation.

It got worse when she said even if we did leave, we would have to try and rescue those people. All of them. The whole group was for this idea, but I am against. They are horrified by me now. They think I'm a violence hungry monster.

I made an off-hand joke yesterday about the bright side of all this. I said I don't need to do my month-end account reconciliations. Not funny as far as they are concerned. They don't think I'm taking this whole situation seriously.

It looks like it between Rita and myself in terms of decisions and leadership. I wouldn't altogether mind someone else being leader and simply do what I'm told if it weren't for Rita insisting on running things.

I'm not sure how this is going to play out. Thinking ahead, I can see a clash where I want to go and they won't.

We'll have to see how things play out, but I'm nervous.

The plan for today at least, I am in agreement with. Rita did suggest that Tom and I scout downstairs to the ground floor. Even if we might stay here, we need to know how to leave this building if need be. I agreed with her wholeheartedly and I'm happy for it to be Tom and I. The ladies would get in the way. Rita and Opera are middle aged and unfit and young Lisa doesn't look up to it. She's scared. Her hands shake and she's very quiet.

Not to say I blame her.

I have regularly been having spells where it all of a sudden hits me and I can't function. I just break down crying or just feel like running away. I didn't sleep well last night. Nightmares about zombies and my family dying. I'm afraid of the dark.

I'm afraid of dying. Really scared.

Yet it's down to Tom and I to risk life and limb to do the dirty work.

I'm not resentful, because it's just how it is. Tom and I are the most capable and the other three genuinely don't look like they could handle it.

Nevertheless, it's a battle to keep my sanity.

I would also kill for a shower. I'm used to showering everyday and having clean clothes everyday. I'm also growing a fair amount of stubble and will have a thin beard very soon. My skin gets oily and I need to wash my face or else my oily skin stings my eyes.

In a sense, it's almost a good thing to go out and do something because it's something to do. I can't just sit around all day like Rita, Opera and Lisa (hey they're names all end in "a", never noticed that before...). Sitting still just means I think and thinking prompts me to have nightmares and what feel like panic attacks.

Anyway, Tom and I are getting ourselves ready. This is a scouting mission only (the word "mission" makes me feel like I'm in a video game). If we can avoid confrontation, it is very much preferred. Hopefully, we go down the entire 32 flights to the bottom and don't really find anything.

Yes, 32 flights of stairs...

Here goes.

XX

Bad news. Tom is dead. We took it relatively slow as we wanted to keep noise to a minimum. Those stairwells reverberate and it's loud when you're inside. A hollow ring with every heavy step.

We got to about level 15 and Tom pulled me up. We could hear footsteps from above. Looking up through the gap between the stair ways we could see movement and it was fast. About 6 floors above.

We started panicking. We couldn't tell how many there were and we didn't know what to do. I stood my ground, but Tom ran down. He fled.

I was about to do the same, but a zombie rounded the bend coming for me. Only one and I managed to dispatch it by throwing down the stairs and cracking it over the head with my pipe. There were three more after that, thankfully they were one after another so I could kill one at a time. If they had rushed me together I have no doubt I would be dead.

I waited, trying to listen if more were coming, but I couldn't distinguish any from above.

I look below to try and find Tom and I could see his hand on the railing below as he descended round and round.

I started down after him and only made one floor before I heard a piercing scream from below.

Despite the horrible echo, there was no doubt that it was Tom and he was seriously in trouble. I rushed down as fast as I could, listening to his shrill screams and I rounded the bend to find him with a zombie on top of him. Tom was scrambling, the pipe away from reach and blood spraying everywhere.

It was a woman and she was literally making a meal of him.

God what a way to describe it.

I jumped in and whacked the bitch with everything I had. She went down, flopping and tumbling down the stairs and didn't come back up.

I looked down into Tom's pleading eyes and I could see beyond his terror. His pleading eyes knew he was dead as he tried to plead for help, but he instead choked and gurgled. I could see he was drowning on his own blood. His throat had been torn open.

With one hand around his neck, hopelessly trying to keep himself together, he reached a pale hand to me, but I was in shock. I was frozen.

I watched him die.

It wasn't the spectacle. I didn't want him to die. It wasn't curiosity or morbid fascination or anything like that.

I just knew he couldn't be helped.

I couldn't do anything.

When he did die (he just slumped, eyes open up at the ceiling), I waited. I waited for him to turn.

The movies and comics and what not each seemed to have specific rules around how the infection spreads, whether zombies run or walk and how long it takes for a dead person to turn, if at all.

It took approximately 20 seconds for Tom's eyes to dart around, fix on me and his hands to twitch for me before I smashed his face in.

I stood and cried.

The zombies I had dispatched before were these no-identity monsters. They weren't really people, they were monsters that need to be killed.

Bad guys.

But I had known and fought alongside Tom so he was a person to me.

I felt sick. Not in a vomit kind of way, but more soul sick.

I wondered whether I want to survive if it meant having to do things like this. I seriously contemplated throwing myself down the empty space between the stairs.

Instead I pressed on and got to the bottom of the stairwell.

And then helpfully found the only door at the bottom locked. The last door to a floor was at level 6 and I didn't want to try it. So I headed back up.

It was a slow trudge. Nevermind that it was 32 floors up climbing stairs the old fashioned way, I had to pass the mess that was previously Tom and our attackers.

Finally I made it back and collapsed into Opera's confused arms. I broke down and cried.

The group is panicking. Even now they are screaming at each other around the corner. I had to get away from them to write all this down and gather myself.

They think there's no way out and we're all going to die.

The thing is... they might very well be right.

I need to do some thinking.

I wanna get out of here.


	5. Chapter 5

Captain's Log 25/3/2012: fifth entry

It has now been three days since the zombie attack in the kitchen.

And yesterday Tom died in the stairwell.

We're tired, drained, confused and afraid.

I've played video games that scared the shit out of me before. Aliens v Predator had me so scared I simply stopped playing it. I couldn't hack it.

There have been horror movies as well with a similar effect.

But for those games and movies that are too much to bear there are two important distinctions:

They are not real

You control when it stops

Obviously, what is happening is real and isn't stopping. Even now as I write, my hands are subtly shaking. Tremors. It's been that way since yesterday and they're getting worse.

Rita and Opera have been arguing with me. Arguing isn't quite the right word as it is not a discussion involving a right and wrong answer. It is more yelling at each other as to what to do and what's going on when no one knows what to do or what to make of our circumstances.

We are all office workers. Paper cuts, carpal tunnel syndrome and neck strains are our most likely workplace injuries. Our job involves us to sit all day. We are all unfit (myself included) and there are no weapons. We are trapped in this office building that is trapped within the city.

Our only way out is down the stairwe-

Wait...

XX

I had an idea. The power is down and the elevators don't work, but the lift shafts are empty and there's a ladder that leads all the way down. At least, that's what I can see from my vantage point 32 floors up looking down the gloomy lift shaft.

We had found a torch earlier and I shone it down the expanse. It is intimidating and I am afraid of heights, but it's a whole new prospect.

I have a plan and I'm about to raise it with the others.

The lift well goes down to the basement car park. If it is not too thick with zombies I might be able to procure a car. Or at least a bike if cars are not an option.

And then open the car park gate and get out of here.

I'm going to raise it now with them.

XX

Well, it seems that while humanity is dead or dying, irony seems to be all too alive and well.

I went to find Rita and the others and got to the kitchen to hear an odd noise behind me. Several zombies were coming through the stairwell door, coming right at me.

To say I was shocked was an understatement. I screamed and yelled for the others and ran for my pipe which was lying on my desk.

When I got to it, I could hear screams from the others.

I turned expecting a swarm of death to be bearing down on me, but only one was coming at me.

Despite my heightened state of fear, I noticed something very odd. I write about it calmly now, but at the time rest assured... anyway.

The zombie was shambling! Not running like the others from yesterday.

I couldn't help but stare at it fascinated for a moment before a desperate scream from the other side of the floor above the low moans of our attackers snapped me back to the present situation.

This observation had a profound effect on me.

Shambling zombies were so much easier to deal with.

The zombie coming towards me was a thin athletic remnant of a person with half her face missing and her head balanced precariously on a torn neck.

Like a baseball batter I lifted my pipe for the swing and snapped it through the monsters neck, decapitating it. It fell limply to the floor.

I was charged now. I was pumped and I went looking for the fight.

I headed for the kitchen, still spurred on by a high pitched wailing and found three zombies shuffling out the kitchen. I skipped up to the nearest one and smashed the pipe down in an overhead chop, killing it without it even knowing I was there.

The other two were still heading off away from me and I smashed down the next in the same way.

The last one noticed me and turned to chase me down. He was only 4 or so metres from me. Although it limped and stumbled, it was nonetheless quick enough to almost catch me off guard, but I managed to side step around it and settle into my batting position.

"Urgh." It moaned raising its arms up almost comically before I heaved and broke it's neck, dropping it to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

Another scream and I sprinted through the myriad desks to find Opera and Rita cornered with four zombies about to lay into them.

I shouted to try and get their attention, but only one turned for me. Opera screamed as she tried to recoil further into her corner and disappear, but I could only watch helplessly as her eyes went wide in unholy terror as it attacked her, going for her shoulder and neck.

I smacked down the one coming for me, desperately trying to save my comrades, but I was not fast enough. I managed to take the rest of the zombies down, but Rita and Opera had been bitten. Opera in her neck and Rita on her chest, her right boob of all places.

Oh god it was horrid. They screamed and panicked and blood was spurting everywhere. I had to pull a zombie off Rita, but in doing so it had its teeth firmly clamped down of Rita's flesh and strands of her tore away as I flung her attacker off.

As I write this, Rita and Opera are dead. They bled out and died quickly and then rose.

Through repulsion and disgust I again had to smash in the faces of people who were people no more. I had only been speaking to them only 20 minutes ago and I had to kill them. My hands were shaking so bad when I had to do the deed that I almost couldn't hold my weapon and I almost couldn't see through the tears that came in a flood. I couldn't breathe.

I am not a killer. I'm just an accountant!

I'm not supposed to have to do this!

At least Lisa is still alive. She had hidden in the ladies toilets.

I barricaded the stairway entrance with furniture. Desks and filing cabinets. Not sure why we hadn't done that before. It will hopefully block the way and also help protect us even if it prevents zombies from looking through the window and seeing something as well.

We've both had a chance to calm down, but I seem to be coping better than Lisa, although that's not to say I'm coping.

I changed my clothes and used a bottle of water to wash my hands and face. Looking in the mirror was haunting as I didn't realise until then how much blood I had on me. Never mind the repulsion of having congealed gore on me, I'm concerned that if I get any in my eyes or happen to ingest any of it that I might get sick and turn.

I fashioned a balaclava from a scarf. Hopefully that does the trick. I found new trousers, a T shirt and a suit jacket that are more or less my size on a clothes stand. I have changed my shoes, having found a pair of running sneakers that are only one size too large, which is good enough.

I'm trying to eat now, sitting at the kitchen bench with some bread and hard cheese with wilted lettuce. And raw eggs. Lisa is sitting in the corner, obvious traumatised. She won't speak to me and avoids my touch. She has withdrawn into herself and occasionally sings to herself.

I'm not sure what to do with her.

I want to escape, I know that, but what do I do if she won't come with me?

If I leave her here by herself, she will die.

Would that then make me a murderer?

I've got some thinking to do... before I lose my grip and break down again.

Goddamnit...


	6. Chapter 6

Captain's Log 26/3/2012: sixth entry: day 4

It is morning on day four and Lisa is nowhere to be found. I have searched the floor high and low and cannot find any trace of her.

The blockade against the stairwell is untouched.

There are no other exits apart from:

The liftwell

Out the window.

The most likely scenario is she committed suicide out the window. What a horrible thing to say! Yesterday after the attack Lisa was basically comatose. Obviously traumatised and not coping. She refused to leave the female toilets, not even the cubicle she sat in. She wouldn't unlock the door and I had to crawl underneath the door to see her, but she would scream and wail and kick at me.

I tried to talk to her, tried to reach her, but she never said a word.

She never came out to eat or drink either. The whole day.

She must have committed suicide. That distant look on her face. She was dead inside. Soul-dead.

God what a waste of life!

I'm on my own now.

You'll think I'm a world-class arsehole for saying this though, but nevertheless, now I can make my escape. Lisa has taken care of herself and my dilemma about what to do with her.

I'm on my own and shit scared, but I know I've got no choice.

Food is running out, as is water.

I've packed what supplies are left, being:

Most of a loaf of bread;

Breakfast cereal (corn flakes mainly, crushed down to save space);

Hot chocolate powder and Milo

Handful of nuts

Tea bags

Hard cheese

Canned tuna (4 tins)

Water bottles (3 of them)

Two apples

Some chocolate

I managed to shove down a mushy almost-too-ripe banana and two more raw eggs (the last of them).

Hang on...

It's raining! Oh God YES! Water!

There's shade panels outside by the widow and water flows and drips nicely from the corners. I have a horrendous fear of heights, but I tied water bottles to a pole and collected enough to fill 9 water bottles.

I drank so much just now I already need to pee.

Oh to be so happy for something so primary and simple!

Something to be happy about.

I'm taking the opportunity to enact my plan.

Besides my food and water supplies, I have the following:

Torch (with two used and two spare batteries)

Cutlery, including a steak and carving knife for defense

My mobile phone and charger socket.

Notebook

Heaps of pens

Calculator

Plastic zip lock bags

A spool of twine

My steel pole (primary weapon)

3 rolls of toilet paper (essential)

One packet of baby wipes

Two bars of soap

One hand soap dispenser

Spare pairs of trousers

Spare T shirt

Spare suit jacket

Pack of tissues

The back pack I'm using is an almost hiking quality back pack. It's nice and big and there's room for more stuff should I find more supples. It's a bit heavy, but I think I'll need most of the contents.

I'm about the go to the liftwell and attempt the climb down. I should reach the basement level and be able to open the lift doors to the car park and bike lockers. If I can get a car, that would be best. Otherwise, I'll be able to get a bike.

Before I go though, I have to settle my nerves... if you know what I mean...

Wish me luck!

(Who am I talking to?)


	7. Chapter 7

Captain's Log 26/3/2012: day 4, 9:40 pm

Jesus Christ!

I am obviously alive, but by the barest of margins.

I am stupid.

Stupid! Stupid!

I got down the lift shaft, all the way down to the bottom. The ladder was thin and it was pitch black, but I finally reached the bottom with only my torch for visibility.

I wrenched open the lift doors slowly and it occurred to me then that the basement, being underground, would of course be...

Dark.

My torch being my only means of seeing meant it was scary as FUCK and my position was given away really easily, which I realised when I crept out of the lift foyer and into the car park to find zombies milling about and headed straight towards me! There must have been thirty of them! Maybe more!

I turned to go back the way I came, but they had cut off my escape route.

I thought I was gonna die.

Somehow I spotted a relative gap in the crowd and ran through, shoving forward and out into a black expanse. I was panicking so bad and my hands shaking so furiously I'm surprised I simply didn't just faint on the spot and get eaten.

I was lucky.

I had never actually been down to the basement properly. My manager showed me once, but it was only quickly and I thought there was a secure gate to the outside. It was instead a boom gate!

Sunshine!

Head to the light!

I ran my arse off and I was out into the street.

ZOMBIES EVERYWHERE!

My plan had gone to hell fast. I was horrendously exposed, running around in daylight in a city full of zombies and I'm unfit, so I was already puffed and surrounded by HUNDREDS of zombies coming right for me.

Thankfully they were mostly lurching and stumbling towards me, because if any of them could run I would be dead.

I ran, not sure with what in mind. I just ran. I was so scared!

I heard someone shouting at me.

"Hey you!" I looked and could see a man waving at me from a second story window. He had a rope and he was beckoning for me to run over and attempt a rescue.

Thank GOD!

It worked. I ran towards him, through the open streets, dodging and weaving as best I could through the milling deathly crowd and got to his rope and grabbed it for dear life.

I was instantly pulled up into the air, up to his window and pulled through the threshold.

I'm in an apartment above a sweets and nut shop. The apartment is one of four and all have been cleared. There're four people here, besides myself being:

Youssef (the owner of the shop downstairs and the guy who shouted at me, 56)

Hunnah (Youssef's daughter and she also works in the nut shop downstairs, 22)

Tim (lived in the apartment block, 61, ex manager for the bank across the street)

Shea (7 year old orphan who also lived in the apartment block. Her parents never came back from work and her nanny turned. Youssef killed her, saving Shea's life)

I'm safe for the moment. They have plenty of food in the shop below, which is relatively secure and lots of water (bathtub full to the brim).

The shop below is fronted with toughened glass and has been barricaded with shelving. The shelving more serves to block out zombies seeing through when Youssef and co go downstairs to get anything, usually at night.

I sort of know Youssef and Hunnah in that I've been to their shop before. Chocolate covered almonds, organic dates and sunflower seeds were my main purchases. He's excessively nice.

Our food consists primarily of nuts, seeds, dried fruit and scavenged canned goods and whatever other produce from the cupboards of the apartments. There's also somewhat easy access to the shop next door through the roof, which unhelpfully is a hair salon only. But next to that is a convenience store, however it is exposed. The windows are smashed and zombies freely walk through the store.

There is also the potential to access a larger apartment block further down the corner. We should be able to climb from the neighbouring salon to an apartment balcony. Doubtful there are survivors as no one has responded to Youssef's calls. There should be food though, but also obviously the possibility of zombies inside.

Right now though, I am mentally exhausted. My experience today and near death has got me seriously rattled. I need to find a way to calm down. I can't stop thinking about my presumably dead family (replaying their deaths over and over in my head) and also myself dying. The thought of being eaten alive by the undead horrifies me down to my core. They are horrific monsters.

Oh god, if only this was merely a dream.

I'm about to turn in and go to sleep in a bed (yes a bed), but I've got no idea how I am to sleep.

It's dark now and I'm writing by the moonlight through the bedroom window.

I'm so scared.

Please someone make the fear stop!


	8. Chapter 8

Captain's Log 27/3/2012: day 5, 5:15 pm

Today has been a day of contemplation and reflection.

It's funny being where I am now compared to my office building. Only 1 floor up, compared to 32.

I've been studying the milling zombies outside. I couldn't really do that before. I have watched how they mill about in the street, wandering around seemingly aimless. Nowhere to go. However they do seem to go for loud noises. Often there are none, but some poor soul fell screaming from a high rise window down the street and landed on a car. The alarm started blaring and the zombie crowd turned instantly and shuffled to their target.

Note that they shuffled. Not ran.

My first encounter at work; the zombie then definitely ran. Now they all shuffle along, like the stiff corpses that they are. Rigour mortis must have now set in and it must make it bloody difficult for them to move around.

I just noticed I seemed to refer to the falling man rather impassively. Thinking back on it now, I was gutted. I tried to look away, but I was a deer in headlights watching as the man's broken body slipped off the car and fell in a heap onto the asphalt. Then I lost sight of him as the crowd closed in.

Poor guy. It must have been s suicide, like Lisa.

This is a new world now. The old world, a civilised one, seems so far away now. An old world gone.

What will be the new priorities?

Of what use am I? I'm an accountant. I work with computers, calculators, law and numbers. All of these things are either useless or cannot function. No need for complex tax laws and no electricity to run electronics.

How will society function now?

First things first though, even before that...

How will society survive? Will we even be a society or merely survivors scratching by avoiding death.

It's funny that the two main causes of death that I can see are starvation or being eaten to death.

Funny, yes?

What a juxtaposition.

Anyway, back to contemplation.

I continue to watch the strange and deathly crowd walking by through the creak of the curtain. We don't want them to particularly know we are here or else we risk them being able to break through or somehow climb up. However, since my rescue yesterday when the zombies rushed the store below as I was hoisted up, when the curtains were drawn behind me, the zombies outside dispersed after about half an hour. They didn't go away, they merely seemed to forget me and resumed to walk around to nowhere in particular.

I started to experiment.

I sneaked up to the roof with an empty tin can. Making sure they didn't see me, I threw it out into the street where it clanged loudly. Almost all the zombies within a 20 metre radius turned for the can, homing in on it, but then bumped into each other uselessly, confusedly hunting for a kill. Unable to process that nothing was there.

It didn't last long though. They soon gave it up and wandered off again.

That tested their hearing.

Now to test their vision.

I sneaked further across the roof lines of the neighbouring shops and then stood up. I was easy to see.

Yet it took a few minutes before any of the zombies below noticed me and even then they stared at me for a moment before walking towards me. They didn't do so urgently it seemed. They appeared more curious until they came closer and saw what I was. Then they started to moan, which caused the other curios zombies to join in. It didn't cause others that were oblivious to look for me, but did spur on the others that were unsure.

I want to test what they do if I do the same, but cover up my pink skin and attempt to move like them. I don't have the nerve to do it now.

Whilst I have been conducting research, I am still deathly afraid of them. I'm sure if a psychiatrist or doctor reviewed me they would diagnose severe post-traumatic-stress-disorder. I find it extremely difficult to relax and often find my heart racing, even if I'm just doing something mundane, such as going to the toilet or eating something. I try my best to distract myself, be it reading books or talking to the others.

Youssef is a hell of a man. He is made of better stuff than me. He seems so calm. Well, relatively speaking and I must admit it has an effect on me. He calms me down. His daughter Hunnah is also pleasant company.

Tim the banker seems a nice enough guy. He's not a stereotype fussy rich man. He's a relatively down to earth man, a widow. He is like me, similarly thinking of his family and depressed often. He had 5 kids with grandchildren just coming on as a prospect. His eldest got married only 3 months ago. He has not heard from them and has similarly resigned to the probability that they are not alive, but is hopeful nonetheless.

Little Shae breaks my heart. I am very much a family man. When in a room with people I don't know, I am more likely to gravitate towards the kids and play with them than talk to the adults. I have a way with kids and as much as it makes me feel better to look after her, she reminds me of my own kids. It is satisfying and heart-breaking at the same time.

She's a traumatised little thing. Her parents both worked and she was at home with her regular nanny when the nanny turned and attacked. She hid in her cupboard and screamed as the monster bashed on the doors and scraped away the woodwork with its fingernails. Youssef ended up bashing down the front door and clubbing the zombie nanny over the head with a hammer. He saved the girl's life, but Shae had withdrawn into a ball.

She's only now started to open up a little more, but cries often and keeps quiet when she is not crying.

She likes to draw so she basically does that all day. My kids loved to draw...

Goddamnit...

Anyway, we have been talking, trying to figure out what is happening and what we will do.

It's so strange to look out over the city and see it so quiet. It is supposed to have lots of background noise. Lots of car noises, people talking and walking about, the tick-tick-tick of the traffic light crossing before the little green man comes up and people cross the road.

The most consistent noise I can hear are birds. Crows especially.

The only comforting noise I can hear is the ticking of the clock on the wall. It is mechanical. Man made. A little tick tock of civility and regularity. It is soothing.

This is a ghost town. It has really hit home what has happened. Paper and leaves float through the streets, rubbish here and there, crashed cars blocking the road and windows smashed. It's a war zone.

And the smell.

I never mentioned it before, but it stinks here. Rotten. It smells like off meat and shit. Like rancid food and dirty toilet mixed together.

It was background smell back up in the office, but here it is more potent, even though the wind carries a lot of it off and away, it must also bring it down from the suburbs. I think I'm getting used to it now though.

Tim is sitting by the window watching the street for any activity. He was the one who spotted me yesterday, so he basically saved my life. He's a humble sort.

It's been a long day and I'm very tired. The stress and nervousness leaves me very tired, but I hope that having two nights in a row sleeping in a bed will do wonders for me. I am due for second watch at midnight so I'm going down to sleep now. It's only 6pm-ish, but I'm ready to sleep. I just hope I CAN sleep.

XX – 1am

I had a great sleep... I feel so much better. All round. I feel calmer, happier and a decent dinner also did a lot for me. Yesterday was the first day in which I did not vomit at all. No stress, no attacks.

I'm sitting in a comfortable chair by the window looking out onto the street. Listening.

I could swear I saw a blurred dark shape moving quickly up the street. I'm not sure, but it would make sense that if someone was to escape, it should be done at night. I will need to test tomorrow night whether the zombies below can see me on the roof at night. I doubt they will.

At some point we will need to escape the city. The group had started coming up with a plan before they picked me up, but it needs more thought. I have some ideas. But I need to mull them over.

It's actually a relief to find it is quite boring sitting by the window. I used to play drums as a hobby and I have been tapping my feet and slapping my knees along to grooves I wanted to practice (before the zombie apocalypse). Funny to think that my drum teacher is likely dead now. Well actually it's not funny because he was a very nice guy and he played in a death metal band I really liked.

All my friends, family, work mates. For all I know are all dead.

How depressing.

And yet I'm strangely positive about it all.

Although all the people I love are likely gone, the negative aspects of my old life are also gone. There is something very satisfying about the idea of going back to basics. Using my hands to build things, grow food and defend myself. Physical things. Real survival. Back to primal instincts.

The modern plastic intangible world where everything was online and revolved around making money from money, paying back the bank and lodging your tax return is gone.

Now I'll have to grow a spine and become a man. A real man.

I've survived this long and killed about 10 zombies by my own hands thus far.

I'm doing alright it seems.

Maybe this is a world I can fit into.

What a strange thought...


	9. Chapter 9

Captain's Log 28/3/2012: day 6, 12:03 pm

Yesterday was up, today is down. Bloody hell I am sick of this rollercoaster.

All this death and waste!

Hunnah heard someone screaming this morning and started yelling back out into the street. Two young women were running down the street, loosely in our direction. They saw us yelling for them to run over and grab the rope to pull them up just like they did for me.

The two women were yelling and panicking and the noise was attracting zombies. They were honing in on them. It was like watching water puddles gather and join together as they closed in on the last bit of dry surfce until the dry was covered. We tossed the rope down, careful to ensure no zombie could grab it before the women made it, but it was clear that there were just too many of them. Even by the end of the rope, there were over 15 zombies reaching up towards us. How were these desperate people going to cleanly grab the rope without being eaten?

They weren't.

The first woman tripped and was set upon quickly. The other was terrified and ran for us and shoved her way into the crowd, reaching up a hand for the rope. She grabbed hold with one hand, but was quickly swamped and torn away.

I managed to get eye contact with her at the instant she grabbed the rope and saw the hope and terror in her eyes. Then I watched her be torn apart and eaten alive in a frenzied bloody mess. I listened to her scream in abject horror and desperation and then die to a gurgle as she momentarily started drowning in her own blood before she finally did actually die.

And then the monsters swarmed on her carcass to devour her.

It was too much and I fell back inside and threw up, retching violently. The other more or less did the same. It was horrifying!

These are people goddamnit! And they're not just dead, they died in just about the worst possible way I can think of! Even now I can hear the disgusting noises, even through the closed glass door and windows.

I don't want to die!

I certainly don't want to die like that!

XX – 2pm

The zombies outside seem to have had their fill and pretty much have stripped the carcases of those two unfortunate women clean. But it's not like there's a clean skeleton left behind. No, that's just too cartoonish. The bodies were torn apart and dragged up and down the street. All that's left are darkened puddles of bloody muck on the asphalt.

We're not sure what to do. We all want to get out of here, but none of us want to risk that happening to us.

XX 5pm

We've reached a decision.

I'm stepping up. Nothing is going to happen unless I do it. I'm the fittest here even though I'm not fit, but I'll have to do.

The apartment block down the way on the corner has a basement car park. Youssef is pretty sure of that. Youssef, Hunnah and myself are going to go in and try to clean the apartment block out, or at least secure access to the car park and access to a suitable car (i.e. big enough and has enough fuel in the tank).

We're going to do our best to get out of the city to the countryside or the coast. We figure, the less population, the less threat. The biggest problem we think will be actually getting out of the city. We have no idea how clear the roads are. Especially the main highways.

I think the best bet is going west. The highway entrance is the closest to us with the shortest distance to the outskirts of the Melbourne Metro. There's also the Werribee farming district out that way too before we would get to Geelong (a major town which we need to avoid).

We're not going to do it today, though. From what I learned in the basement of my office building, we want daylight. The basement in that apartment will most likely be pitch black, however so torches will be necessary. Thankfully, I packed one when I escaped and there's a spare in the nut shop. Both work.

Tomorrow will be a big day.

I'm scared, but I think we can do this. At least this time I'll have Youssef and Hunnah with me. If I was alone, I think the fear would shut me down. But the three of us is much better.

Wish us luck...

I'm going to need luck just to get to sleep tonight.


	10. Chapter 10

Captain's Log 29/3/2012: day 7, 11:30 am

Two days ago, up.

Yesterday, down.

Today... UP!

OK, so the plan was to clean out the apartment block down the way and get a decent car to escape the city. We have more or less done that and we're all alive! No injuries!

We haven't cleaned out the block, but we did clean out one floor, the stairway and the car park basement. We climbed onto the balcony from the rooftops of the stores around us. There was one zombie inside, a teenage girl half naked in her dressing gown. Although it was really spooky and disturbing to see her coming at us with that vacant desiccated expression on her face, it was easy to kick her down and smash her face in with a hammer. The front doors to the rest of the apartments were closed and locked. We passed over going inside and were happy that even if zombies were inside, they were contained.

Next we went down the stairwell and checked the foyers and hallways of every floor and found them empty, both above and below us. That was a lesson from my office.

Next it was the car park and there was only one zombie again in there. A middle aged woman in gym gear. Easy to dispatch. Whatever elation we felt was dulled when Youssef noticed a wedding ring on her finger. It made her human in our eyes for a moment, before we went to work securing the area (i.e. testing doors) and checking out all the cars. There were seven; two hatchbacks, four sedans and a small SUV.

Frustratingly, we can't get into any of the cars. We need to find car keys. Even if we could get in, none of us know how to hot wire a car.

Funny thought. No more Google!

We'll need to systematically clean out the whole apartment block to find the car keys. We're just having a quick rest back in the balcony apartment and we'll clear this floor first. It looks like there's four apartments per floor and 4 floors. The top floor, might be penthouses so that's anywhere between 13 to 16 apartments to work over. Hopefully many of them are empty.

Here goes.

XX – 12:20pm

This floor (L2) is clear. Only 4 four zombies and they were relatively easy to take care of. They move so slow and we move so methodically and carefully. No one goes blind around corners and we all stick together. We call into every room and wait for zombies to come out and that works well. They just shamble out into the open and we smack them down with little risk. I'm doing most of the work. Youssef is my back up and Hunnah watches our backs as she is not confident up front.

There's bodies up here as well though. It looked like one apartment had a family of 4 four in it and the mother turned and killed them. What a sorry prospect. Reminds me of my family...

Anyway, we've found car keys to try out and food to stockpile. Mostly rice, pasta, cereal, canned stuff and fruit that's still good. Some water too. There's still some water in the taps so we've been collecting them in plastic bottles. All in all, there's quite a lot of food and other useful things. Clothes, toothpaste, toilet paper, batteries that sort of stuff.

We're going to hit L1 next as that's the only floor between us an the basement.

Wish us luck.

2:10pm

Floor clear, but it was harder this time. All but one apartment was empty and the only one with people in it was chock full of Asian university students. We broke open the front door and four of them were in the kitchen and lounge and came straight for us.

We had a plan for thus though and backed up the stairs. That way the zombies were forced to more or less go single file and were easier to handle one by one. Also, if everything went pear shaped, we had an exit.

It was tricky and utterly terrifying, but Youssef and I managed to take them out. Hunnah did a good job spotting from behind. After we dispatched those four, there were a further three inside the apartment. One almost managed to tackle me down as it came out of the closet (pun not intended), but I managed to sort of stumble and flinch out of the way and Youssef shoved it over onto the bed.

The foyer and front door facing the street appears secure.

More supplies, car keys and another secured floor. We'll come get these supplies later. We're more intent on clearing the apartment block first.

Two floors to go... L3 next.

3:05pm

Floor clear, two zombies per room and again relatively easy to take care of. Although I say easy, it is still frightening and disgusting work. There's congealed blood and gore all up my right arm and the front of my top. When a hammer breaks through the skull, bits of bone and gore fly up. Yucky.

I haven't had lunch today, because I don't have the stomach for it. Youssef and Hunnah are the same.

More supplies, car keys and one more floor to go.

3:45pm

Floor clear. It was only two apartments and one was empty and the other had a single woman in it, completely naked. It was strange because were she alive, she would have been completely hot! It was comical in a way. Because her skin was wrinkled and shrunken, it was obvious by her bulbous breasts that they were fake.

Easy done now.

We're going to come back tomorrow and get everything together. More supplies and car keys and fresh clothes (looking forward to that!)

It's going to be dark soon. Youssef said he'll open up a bottle of wine or two so we can celebrate! We're in good spirits today!


	11. Chapter 11

Captain's Log 30/3/2012: day 8, 1:30 pm

Last night Youssef did indeed authorise the opening of a bottle of wine and although it was a shiraz that was a bit too peppery for my liking, it was nice to just sit around and talk and relax (Shae had gone to bed early which was convenient).

Tim volunteered to stay up for night watch given he stayed behind yesterday when we made our assault on the apartment block. I was thankful because those two glasses of wine knocked me out. When it was time to go to bed, I was really tired.

We've spent this morning filling garbage bags of food and supplies from the nut shop and taking them over to the apartment. We're relocating so we are closer to the basement car park and can load up the car and get going when the time comes.

Tim and Youssef tried all the car keys we found and we've got four cars to choose from:

Holden commodore (large 5 seater sedan) – tank ¾ full

Honda Jazz – half tank

Honda CRV – quarter tank

Volkswagen Golf Diesel – full tank

We're going to go with two cars, the Holden and the Golf. Youssef says he can siphon petrol from the other cars, which will be handy.

We're sort of done stockpiling food supplies. There's a lot between the nut shop and whatever we could scavenge from the cupboards in the apartments. We're obviously leaving behind whatever is rotten or not far off (bread, fruit, dairy and meat). It's mostly nuts, rice, pasta, canned stuff, cereals and dried fruits. We've got plenty of water and plenty of bottles and containers to store it. One kitchen had two 20 litre tubs with dispenser nozzles, almost unopened.

We're looking good. Today is going to be all about getting set up and planning tonight how we're going to get out of the city and where we are aiming to go. The plan is likely to remain out West, but we'll need contingency plans in case we get separated on the road or we encounter obstacles.

The zombie crowd outside has been watching us going back and forth across the rooftops and they're congregating a bit. It really makes me nervous seeing a seething mass of dead people just below me, reaching up hoping to grab me and kill me.

It makes me shudder.

We now just need to stockpile whatever other supplies we think we might need like clothes, batteries, toothbrushes (how very domestic). I'm going to rifle through the cupboards of the former residents and see if I can find some useful, new and funky fresh threads.

XX – 5pm

Disaster! Tim was helping little Shae from the rooftop to the balcony and she slipped from his hands and fell to the ground below. Tim panicked and dived down for her!

He was tackled and devoured quickly, but Shae somehow got her footing and weaved her way through the crowd and ran screaming down the street. We shouted for her to double back so we could pick her up with the rope like before, but she disappeared around the corner with a hell of a lot of zombies fumbling after her. We could hear her screaming still after that, getting further and further, I think towards the park.

We've got no idea if she's alive or dead, but Tim is very much dead.

What a disaster!

Shae's just a little girl. If she's not dead right now, she's scared out of her little brain! She could be up a tree or holed up somewhere... no idea.

Tim was very caring. Very paternal for her. Very protective... He seemed such a good natured person.

So now it's just the three of us. Youssef, Hunnah and myself.

We're distraught. Everything seemed to be going so well and then this happens!

It's so goddamn frustrating and heart breaking. We're just trying to survive...

We're still escaping, driving away somewhere, but we're wondering whether to try and find Shae first or try and drive around the city looking for her first.

I don't know...

XX - 3am

I was on second watch, looking out the window of the second story window of the nut shop with the rope on standby just in case Shae came running back.

She did.

She grabbed the rope and I pulled her up, but what should have been a joyous occasion was soured when I noticed her left ear was missing. Torn off. There's a bloody tangled scab there now, ragged bits of skin and cartilage hanging off. We bandaged it as best we could.

She's lying down on the bed now, sleeping. She's exhausted and severely traumatised. Hunnah wanted to sleep next to her, cuddle her.

I wouldn't allow it. Youssef didn't say anything, but I know he agrees with me that Shae is a risk right now.

As heart breaking as it is, I had to pull Hunnah off Shae, lock her out of the room and try to get Shae to go to sleep by herself (which she did eventually after she stopped screaming and crying). I had to hold back every fatherly instinct in me to do that. It was so hard.

I'm sitting here right now watching Shae sleep in the moonlight. Her breathing is ragged and she coughs now and then, but she's resting.

And I've got my steel pipe laying in my lap, ready to be used if necessary...

I would like to say that I hope I don't have to use it, but I think it's more a case of how long until I do, instead of if at all...

It's been just over an hour thus far... And I'm scared as hell.

XX – 430 am

Shae's breathing began to labour and slow 10 minutes ago.

1 minute ago it stopped.

It was another minute before she suddenly sat up in her bed and looked around the room and saw me.

And then I clubbed her back to death without hesitation.

It's taking every ounce of sanity, reason and logic I have to convince myself I did the right thing and didn't simply murder an innocent little girl just now...

I had to do it, I know that.

I am concerned I was able to do it so readily.

I didn't wait for her to attack me first.

I didn't even say her name.

I just hit her in the head as hard as I could.

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I have to go tell the others now.


	12. Chapter 12

Captain's Log 31/3/2012: day 9, 11:30 am

We're ready to go. The cars are loaded up and we've been discussing where exactly we are going to go and how we will do it.

It's 2 cars between the three of us.

Hunnah hates me. After what I did to Shae, she hates my guts. She's barely talking to me, but Youssef says she'll come round. He reassured me that I did do the right thing and he's very grateful I did it. He said he wouldn't have had the stomach for it.

So obviously Hunnah and Youssef will be driving together in the Holden and I'll be by myself in the Golf. I chose the Golf because I've owned one before and therefore know my way around it. It's an automatic Diesel. The boot is packed full of garbage bags filled with food, clothes and other supplies. The Holden is similarly filled.

We're good to go. We're just going to discuss the plan and have lunch before we head off.

XX - 4pm

For the sake of suspense, I let you know that something happened. Whether good or bad I won't say. I'll simply explain what's happened since this morning.

We didn't realise until we were in the basement car park ready to go that the shutter gate to the street was electrically operated (no good since the power is down), so Youssef volunteered to pull it open himself and jump in the Holden driven by Hunnah.

I was to wait behind them in the Golf.

Youssef was supposed to disengage the catch and simply pull the roller door open.

Only it didn't go so smoothly.

We didn't bet on two things; several zombies standing right outside and the roller door catching and opening slowly.

Youssef managed to get the door open up to his waist before we saw the zombies outside and they noticed us. They reached for Youssef's legs and he flinched away before they could grab him or bite him.

Since the roller door decided to catch and not simply fall closed again, zombies started pouring into the car park.

And we're screwed. The plan has gone to hell in a hurry.

Youssef goes for the car and gets in cleanly, but then they do something really stupid.

They tried to ram through the roller door.

Instead of breaking through, they simply smashed the car and got stuck, which isn't great to say the least.

And then a gang of zombies start pawing at the windows of the cabin.

I could see they were trapped inside the car and would likely die unless I did something.

I smashed my hand down on the steering wheel, and the car horn was bloody loud in the closed space and most of the zombies looked for me. I got out and started shouting at them. Trying to bait them off and away and it largely worked.

I shouted at Hunnah and Youssef to get out and run for the stairway and close the door behind them.

I had quite a lot of room between them and me so I started running circles and waving my arms around. I also had my trusty pipe in my hands. The light was dim and I was scared out of my mind. I had a mini horde bearing down on me. Bloody mangled faces staring at me with hungry eyes and I was forcing myself not to simply run away and leave Hunnah and Youssef to their own initiative, whatever they might have been.

I couldn't see the Holden then as the zombies started closing in and I could sense breathing room quickly shutting off.

With flight mode suppressed, I engaged fight mode.

Thankfully the horde was spread out and I managed to smash down a few zombies fairly cleanly. But they kept coming. And those I smacked down were more often than not simply knocked down and not killed off. I'm not sure what it was, perhaps the sheer terror and dim light, but my aim or something must have been off.

They were closing in and I knew I couldn't do this all day. I strained to hear a shout that Hunnah and Youssef were OK.

"Get up the stairs!" I must have shouted that almost continuously as I tried to fight the tide back and keep them occupied.

"C'mon!" I heard Youssef's voice and that was enough for me.

There was only one zombie between me and the stairs and I jousted him with the pipe and jumped over as he fell backwards.

I got to the door way and could barely see Hunnah and Youssef in the dark. We closed and locked the door behind us and ran up to the second story apartment with the balcony.

When we got there, to the front door, I could see Youssef was injured.

It wasn't until we got inside that Hunnah started panicking and screaming and I was shouting back demanding to know what happened, both to the plan and to Youssef.

Hunnah was screaming at me. Absolutely screaming.

She was freaking out.

I was trying to get her to calm down, but she was hysterical. I simply shoved her to the side and looked Youssef in the eyes. He was slouched on the floor, but his eyes told me everything.

He'd been bitten and scratched. Badly.

Hunnah was still shouting at me and it was blind luck that I turned to try and sort her out again and dodged a stab attempt. She tried to kill me!

I backed off and lifted the pipe up in front of me like a sword. Hunnah tried it again, leading wit the knife and I managed to hit her in the forearm and deflect her lunge. I tackled her and got on top of her, but she was fighting me fiercely. I had her knife arm pinned, but she was wriggling, kicking and biting. Biting!

I didn't know what to do, so I did something I'm very ashamed of.

I punched her across the face.

It wasn't a knock out, but it was enough to seriously daze her. I took the knife away and backed up towards Youssef. Now he was shouting, but thankfully not at me, but at her. He was shouting that I saved their lives and to stop.

FINALLY, some sense!

Hunnah was wobbly on her feet, but could still yell.

Her and Youssef started shouting at each other in Arabic. I left the situation and checked the hallway. It was empty. I went down to check the lower floor. Still empty. I mustered the courage to check the car park door and it was still locked and secure. But I could hear moaning and banging on the door. I had to fortify the door pronto or we'd all be dead, drama or not.

I was angry, scared and had adrenaline instead of blood in my veins so I somehow managed to haul a 3 seater couch from the nearest upstairs apartment down to the stairway and brace it up against the door all by myself. Then I went and got another one and laid it in top of that one.

Good enough.

I raced back upstairs.

And found no one back on level two.

Empty.

I looked around out the balcony onto the street and couldn't see anything besides the milling zombie crowd below.

I checked upstairs and still nothing.

I went up to level four and found Youssef banging on an apartment door. I called to him and he saw me and (of all things) my balls turned to ice and my stomach imploded.

Youssef had turned.

He charged me with wild eyes and flecks of blood pouring from his mouth.

He RAN!

Thankfully I had my pipe still with me and I had enough sanity to use my kick and smack technique on him.

I should emphasise that this technique only works if you put all your weight and strength into the kick. I was caught off guard and the kick worked enough to shove Youssef back onto his butt, but it did the same for me.

I tried to get to my feet first, but Youssef was faster. I was in a squat when he was in a diving sprint, but I managed to get my pipe up in front of me and poke it into his stomach. It was enough to deflect his dive to the side, but it wrenched the pipe out of my hands.

I got up and ran back down the stairs in a blind terror filled panic.

I ran for the second story balcony apartment. I got there and closed the door behind me with only two seconds spare before Youssef was pounding on the door and making this horrible gurgling snarl.

I went to lock the door, but the door opened! Youssef either had enough human mind to use the door handle or bumped it accidentally. Either way I was screwed.

I ran for the balcony and jumped over the side to the rooftop. I had a snap idea and instead of running, I stood my ground and caught Youssef as he jumped the balcony railing.

I caught his arms and tugged him to the right, sending him tumbling down to the street.

He fell badly and flopped about. His legs were broken.

I watched as Youssef tried repeatedly to stand and fall over, his legs contorted every which way until the bone cut through his pants and stuck out. It was disgusting.

I climbed back into the apartment and passed out. At least that's what must have happened, because before I knew it I woke up to find it was 4pm on my watch when only 10 minutes ago it was 12pm.

I scoured the apartment block and finally found Hunnah.

She's inside the master bedroom of apartment 4-2, crying and wailing and refusing to come out.

Now I don't know what to do.

All our eggs were in one basket. We loaded up almost all our food in the cars which were now hopelessly off limits in the zombie filled basement car park.

There is no hope now. My lack of a future is certain. I am not going to survive this catastrophe.

I am going to die.


	13. Chapter 13

Captain's Log 1/4/2012: day 10, 12:10 pm

Oh joyous news!

I don't know what it is, but all the zombies suddenly just fell over and died!

We're free! We're safe!

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April fools...

I'm sitting outside Hunnah's locked bedroom in apartment 4-2. I've been trying to reason with her all day. I'm barely getting a response. I can tell she's still in there, because I can hear muffled crying.

I've managed to scrounge up some left over food scraps from the kitchen (dry crusty bread mainly and a small tin of corn), but Hunnah hasn't eaten. Or had anything to drink unless there's some water in the ensuite inside.

I gave up talking to her about an hour ago, so I've had a chance to sit and think and stare at the world outside from the window up here on the fourth floor.

It's a strange world now. Dead, but still moving, however slow and stunted. Overnight as I slept on the couch I sat by the window looking out into the streets lit only by moonlight. Such a strange sight. It occurred to me that when I used to walk home from work when it was dark, there were always street lights on. Household lights. Traffic lights. Car head lights.

Now overnight, it is just darkness softened by only the moonlight. And I found my eyes adjusting to the darkness and adapting quite well. It gets especially dark in the apartment as no lights are on and the moonlight can't get it, but I nevertheless could see where I was going when I went for a little walk and checked downstairs on the barricaded door.

I've also had time to contemplate my mortality and what I'm going to do next. As far as I can see I have three choices:

Commit suicide (by jumping from the top floor);

Waiting here to see what happens (and likely die from hunger); or

Go out and try my hand at escaping.

I'm warming to option 3.

I searched the other apartments on this floor and I've found a new weapon. An aluminium baseball bat.

I don't know how we didn't find it before, but there was a sports bag in the closet of a bedroom in 4-1 containing the bat and a helmet with a face grill.

I also found a leather jacket that fits me and looks pretty well made. I also found sturdy hiking boots that are only one size too large. And then I also found leather work gloves.

I've put together a scrappy suit of armour effectively.

If I were to go out and attempt to escape, I'll do it tonight I think under the cover of darkness. I'm wondering whether to try and salvage the food from downstairs in the basement, but I think it's too dangerous. My advantage in being out in the open will be the fact that zombies are so slow. Open space is better cover than cover I'm thinking.

A fairly serious consideration though is my fitness level. But I don't think that will be an issue if I stick to open streets and sneak around. Light jogging and power walking. I can do that.

I will need to scrounge food and water. I'm going to find what I can here, searching absolutely everywhere and there's still plenty of nuts and dried fruits back at the nut shop (but copping diarrhoea thereafter).

But all this presumes I'm going by myself. What do I do about Hunnah?

If she doesn't come to her senses, I'm going to bash down her door and confront her. She either comes with me or doesn't.

You know what? I'll break her door down right now and just get this sorted out. All this uncertainty is no good.

XX – 12:25pm

I told Hunnah about what I was thinking and that I needed to speak with her urgently. I reassured her that I wasn't going to hurt her, I just wanted to get eye contact and speak to her properly.

She told me to, and I quote, "Fuck off!"

So I proceeded to bash down the door. I managed to break a hole big enough to look through which was enough to get eye contact with Hunnah inside. She was scared witless and crawled to the other side of the room like a frightened mouse.

I tried to speak with her through the makeshift porthole and she started screaming at me again. That I killed her father and I'm all sorts of things I won't mention here.

That decided it for me. I'm leaving without her. I said that to her plain and calmly and invited her along, but I made it clear as crystal I was leaving either way. And taking whatever supplies I wanted and was not going to leave anything behind.

She paused and started to think. First time I've seen or heard her in a rational state since yesterday.

She asked me if I found Youssef whether I would kill him.

I said yes.

She then grabbed a desk lamp and threw it at the door, obviously aiming for the porthole.

I'm normally a patient and caring person. My first instinct is to help people and I come second.

But I've had it with Hunnah. I know she's lost her father, but I've lost my family and everyone else too and she's had long enough to see sense.

I'm abandoning her. She can figure herself out.

XX 4:30pm

I'm packed and ready to go. My heart is racing a million miles an hour and I'm outside Hunnah's door giving her one last chance.

Again, I'm being calm and rational and she's flying off again.

She wants me to rot in hell.

Suit yourself I say.

I'm going to sit on the roof on the northern end by the convenience store and wait for sunset. It's Autumn now and the sun usually goes down about 6pm. I'll jump down onto the street and start jogging up Russel Street. It's a very wide street and there's not too many zombies around from what I can see up here.

XX – 6pm

Sun is almost down. Leaving in 10 more minutes. I'm nervous as hell, but I think I can do this.

XX 6:10pm

Here goes, wish me luck.

XX 2:30am

Very tired. Absolutely exhausted both mentally and physically. Spent 6 hours constantly dodging the undead. Thankfully I found what looked like a courier's bike before I left the city and I've been making good ground. Had quite a few close calls and fell off once. The fall was one zombie getting a hand on my backpack and pulling me off. I managed to fall off cleanly and smack it down with my bat and get back on the bike again.

I rode north east.

My destination?

Home.

And that's where I am right now.

It became obvious quite quickly that I would only get so far before I would need shelter for the night. My home was as good as any. Plus I just wanted to know what happened to them. My family.

The front door (made of glass) was smashed from the inside. Glass shards littered the front steps.

There is no one here. It's empty. No blood stains...

Nothing.

Not even my little dog, Oscar. He's highly territorial and never runs away.

I can only draw two conclusions:

They're alive and escaped.

They all turned and are wandering the streets right now.

The kitchen pantry doesn't look like anything has been taken. The drawers and cupboards and closed and the furniture is all in its place. Nothing disturbed.

I don't know what to do.

Do I look for them?

Or not?

My windows have security shutters (which is convenient). We were planning to demolish this dump of a house and build a new one...

Oh god... I can see my neighbour in the front yard of their house across the street. Manuela. She's only a slight lady and with her bob haircut she's easy to spot.

If I can't take not knowing what's happened to my family, I have to at least put our neighbour friends out of their misery. I can't see them like this.

Be right back.

XX- 3am

Oh god. Oh god! I hate this!

They're all zombies. Manuela, her husband Brent and their two kids (Matthew 5 and Tahlia 3, just like mine).

I had to kill them. Better dead than undead. But that means I have to smash in the face people I used to know and counted as friends.

Manuela was easy to dispatch and the other three were thankfully wandering the backyard. I smashed down Brent and Matthew, leaving little Tahlia last.

She was last because she had a broken leg and was crawling along in the grass. The stairs from their deck to the backyard go down and are quite steep. She must have fallen down.

She was wearing pink flannel PJ's and apart from her misshapen left leg (bent out to the side from the knee) she was untouched. Simply pale.

She looked up at me with an indifference expression. Reaching for me with her big eyes that were once blue and clear now lifeless.

I lifted my bat over my head and brought it down as hard as I could.

I hate having to do this stuff. I did it to Shae and now these guys. Little kids... Just little babies..

I'm back in my house, secured in my bedroom with the bed braced up against the door. Nothing's coming in here. I don't think anything followed me. The street is empty and calm.

I'm going to try and sleep, but I don't know how after all that...

I hope my family is either safe or dead.

Please let them not be undead... Anything but that.


	14. Chapter 14

Captain's Log 2/4/2012: day 11, 11:20 am

Didn't sleep well last night.

Nightmares all night. Of my bike trip here.

All night.

I should recap and actually write down what happened. The things I saw. How I am still alive.

I don't know how I am still alive. Reading over last night's diary entry belies just how harrowing and terrifying the journey here was. And traumatic. Although there was only one incident where a zombie actually got a hand on me, it was a close call the entire way. There were so few times I could pull over and rest or drink some water. The streets always had zombies around. I had to always keep moving. And never that long in a straight line. Constantly weaving and on the lookout. I knew if I had a bad spill I was dead.

I'm also very thankful the bike's gears or chain didn't slip off. If it did I would be on foot. No time to fix anything.

And the things I saw. I didn't see many of them in the city, but there were a lot of them in the suburbs.

Zombie children.

What a harrowing thing to see. Little kids hobbling along covered in blood with mangled flesh and stinking of death and rot.

I had to plan my trip quite carefully. Stick to the roads that were open and away from shopping strips. Crashed cars blocked the streets, some with zombies still inside trying to figure out how to get out.

I'm not fit, I've spelled that out enough times and the hills killed me. I swear, fear was the only thing driving me sometimes. Knowing that if I slowed down just a bit too much I was dead meat. I could constantly hear that guttural moaning all around me. In the darkness.

Oh god. It was so dark. Although the moon was out and no clouds to obscure the dim light, it was still dark. The bike had a headlight that worked and was a serious help, but it was so scary riding along looking for bodies moving about in the darkness. Looking for movement.

And then all of a sudden a zombie is right in front of me, lit up in the headlights and I would have to swerve out of the way. And then wherever I swerved there was another one. Shit! The street is blocked, there's so many of them. Double back, weaving through the crowd that was only moments ago right behind me. Stay cool.. Stay cool.. don't panic.

Go down a side street, thank god it's clear and then the whole saga starts again. They are not there, then all of a sudden I'm surrounded!

Those faces in the night. Rotten, broken, torn. Bloody. Angry.

Hungry.

Gut wrenching horror. I wondered if I would ever get here. I seemed to ride forever.

Finally as I came up the Greensborough highway, the zombie crowd thinned out as the road widened and I peeled off to my street. As if by magic, the zombies almost disappeared and I found my house.

I couldn't rest though. My guard was still up and I prepared myself for the worst.

Yet they are not here. No trace of them.

I don't know what to make of it and I'm too exhausted for it, yet I can't not think about it.

Oh god I'm so exhausted. I have never before been so tired and drained and soul sick.

I don't know how I mustered up the energy and courage to go across the street and kill of my former neighbours.

My legs are cramping, my hands shake, my back is killing me and blisters on my hands and feet. My knees are aching. Bad headache and my eyes are dry and burning.

I should be hungry, but I'm too nauseous for that. I feel sick. Paranoid.

I'm in my bedroom. Bed still braced up against the door, but the front door is also still broken and the house not secured. Sneaky looks out through the slits of the front security windows show not much. No zombies. It's very quiet and I'm not sure what to make of it.

I have to rest. I'll try and eat something and get some fluids into me. I suspect I'll be resting and sleeping all day and try and get up to something tomorrow, whatever that might be, but right now I'm in no shape to do anything.

The nightmares are on top of me. Even right now. I can still see the silhouettes of those monsters lurching towards me. Blood and death and rot and stink and...

I have to sleep.

Wish me luck.

XX

9:30pm

Oh my GOD!

I slept just over 8 hours! Straight!

And I feel so much better!

I'm still sore, but it's more my body than my mental state. My head ache is even gone.

I was so hungry I downed one can of corn, one can of beans and one tin of mackerel. And lots of water.

I'm feeling positive. Ish. I feel revitalised, but I've had some more time to think.

I am traumatised. Can I say that officially?

My hands still shake (even though less than this morning) and I'm constantly scared and on edge. My eyes don't stay still for long. I'm always looking for danger, even within this bedroom. I'm paranoid about the small space behind the cupboard and even within the cupboard. I have to have the doors wide open or else I imagine there's a zombie inside that will at any moment jump out and attack...

Well, at that thought I think I'll say I am no longer feeling positive. What a depressing and terrifying rollercoaster I'm on. And by myself. I dearly miss the company of others. Even if they are freaking out and scared too, at least it's another person. Like a security blanket for a child.

I have none now. I am by myself and there is no one to help me. On my own. I wonder how Hunnah is doing. I can't help but feel guilty. Is she alive? Is she scared out of her mind like me? Will she escape or die there?

I know she's not my problem right now and I shouldn't blame myself, but I can't help but regret. I know I did the right thing by me, but I still hate it. I suppose I hate that it came to that. Although it's balanced out by my hatred of her. She did try to kill me after all. When I tried to help of all things!

Stupid bitch...

I shouldn't say that. Have I become so cold? She's just scared and lost. Her dad died in front of her and tried to kill her... I am ashamed...

And now for something completely different and back on topic: my current situation.

I know I need to open the bedroom door, secure the house and get supplies.

But I just can't seem to muster the courage to open the door. I'm scared.

What if there's a zombie right outside? It might shove the door open and hundreds of other monsters pour in and rip me apart...

Death by zombie is not pleasant. I've seen quite a few die from zombie attack and it's not pretty. If you're reading this, then you know what I mean. It's a slow gruesome death. It seems there's enough time for panic to take hold, the pain of being torn open and flesh ripped or bitten off you and the sight of your own broken body and guts spilling out of you before you die.

All the people I've seen die, did so horribly with terror firmly embedded in their eyes.

I don't want to die like that. I would rather starve or die of thirst.

Yet I know that if I bunker down, I will die, whereas if I run I at least have a chance...

I have tools in the backyard. Sledgehammer, axe. Weapons of real use to me, but I can't muster up the courage. My hands shake so badly it's probably a wonder if you can read my hand writing. I can barely read what I'm writing.

I feel dirty as well. Drenched in sweat, blood and dirt and grime.

The house smells bad as well. It's always been a musty old house, but now it smells... I dunno, just wrong. Everything just feels wrong if that makes sense.

Where are my family?

I was so fixated on the house last night I didn't even look for our car.

It's parked right out front by the curb. I know it has a solid half tank of diesel in it. Enough to go about 400 kilometres.

But I can't step through the broken front door to get to it.

I just can't...

Where the FUCK are my wife and kids? I miss them such much it's not goddamn funny. They are not here and I've got no idea what's happened to them or where they could possibly be right now.

How do I know they aren't hiding next door? Right now?

How do I know they aren't dead? Or undead?

The possibilities are sickening me to my core

I stink.

I want a shower.

I'm beginning to wonder whether survival is worth living...

But then, if I were to commit suicide how would I do it?


	15. Chapter 15

Captain's Log 3/4/2012: day 12, 7:20 am

I spent most of the night relaxing and sleeping. I was very nervous and anxious all yesterday. But having secure time for lonesome contemplation and thought has given me a refreshing frame of mind.

I intend to get things done today. I need to get in the car and go north. It will be safer north towards the country as surely the zombie population up there will be much more sparse. Survivors a more likely prospect.

But first I feel I have a duty of care to explore a little bit and look for other survivors. I can't believe that an entire suburb or even neighbourhood could be completely dead without someone bunkering down and surviving. Especially considering there's plenty of food to loot.

There's a shopping centre just down the down (literally, it's a 10 minute walk that's one of the reasons we moved here). So I'm thinking to explore a little bit. I'll be very careful though. Electricity is still down so if I go in, it'll be dark. Especially inside the ground level. It will be pitch black dark inside the supermarket.

There's another supermarket that stands alone from the shopping centre and that shouldn't be pitch dark. I'll try that first I think.

Before I do all that though, I'm going to secure this house, meaning I'll secure the front door. It is still broken. I'll grab the kitchen door, take it off the hinges and nail it to the front door frame. That'll do the trick. Otherwise, the house is pretty secure. The house is on stumps and the windows are quite high off the ground. It would be quite difficult for a zombie to climb up and get through most of the windows. Those windows that happen to be lower all have security shutters bar one, so I'll nail that one up too.

Best get to it. Not scared this morning. Be right back.

8:10 am

House is secured now and I've gathered the necessary tools and equipment from outside.

I tell you what... it was funny to go into the back storage room and see my drum kit. It's just sitting there like nothing has happened. Completely undisturbed. I was tempted to play, but that would obviously be foolish.

Shame.

I'm prepared now. Ready to go outside and do some searching and looting. I remember there's a house down the street with solar panels. Wouldn't mind checking if that house still has power. If it's secure I might relocate, at least for a while. It would be nice to watch some movies or listen to some music...

I'm taking the diary with me. Wish me luck. Let's go shopping.

XX: 11:15 am

I scouted the streets and got to the supermarket. There were quite a few random and isolated zombies around. I knocked as many down as practicable. No reason not to take some out.

Also, I felt quite angry this morning so I took some of my frustrations out on them. I also experimented a little bit as to how much punishment a zombie skull can take before it caves in. I took my axe with me. Using the butt end mostly as the blade can lodge and get stuck in the bone, which is dangerous. The axe is heavy, but not overly so like the sledgehammer. I can wield it repeatedly without losing control of my aim and without tiring. Better than the pipe which is a little on the light side and was starting to buckle.

I'm finding the kick and smash technique to work well. Solid kick to knock the zombie down and then a safe downward chop to the skull to finish off. The momentum of the overhead chop is much better than a sideswipe to the neck which doesn't have nearly as much power and also has much less margin for error.

I took out about 40 odd zombies doing this. It's hard work after a while, but you fall into a nice rhythm and it's almost relaxing in a strange way. The trick to only engage zombies that are not in packs. I am being particularly careful and it's working well for me so far.

I found evidence of others having done the same as me. Dead bodies littered the streets with their heads smashed in or necks broken. Looks like melee weapons, no gunshots from what I can see.

Also, I managed to get inside the Woolworths supermarket (the one not part of the shopping centre) and I found distinct evidence of looting. There was even a note painted roughly on the front wall of an address. I'll check it out later. I'm hopeful it's survivors. I'm so very hopeful.

More bodies were inside the supermarket than outside. I'm guessing a semi-organised gang has been raiding the shelves. Tinned stuff primarily, biscuits, water and long life milk. All the non-perishables.

I took some stuff as well, knocking down the odd zombie while I was at it. Nothing altogether too difficult as I managed to keep my cool and act methodically. No zombie has ever snuck up on me as I am paranoid about it. My eyes are constantly on the lookout.

It's scary and exhilarating work, but I seem to be getting better at it.

I'm back home again now calming down from the rush and I'm feeling good. The address is on the other side of the suburb and a distance of about 2 kilometres away. I'm about to head out there now on the bike. Having some lunch first.

I am so hopeful the address is 'alive' and co-operative.

Cross your fingers for me.

XX: 2:45pm

The address is dead. Whoever was inside is long gone. It appears they did a runner. It didn't looked like it was breached, just abandoned. There were no zombie inside and the front door was unlocked, but closed. Surprised they didn't leave a note though.

However, I did ride past a house with someone inside. I was riding down the street back towards my house when someone shouted at me. It was a young woman judging by the sound of her voice. Her windows were boarded up and zombies were congregating around her house.

They turned for me, but there was enough time for me to shout hello and my address. She shouted for me to come back later as she was running out of food. I said I would and started riding off to lead the zombies away. I led them down a street away from her house and mine and doubled back to my place. I'm stopping quickly to get some supplies to hand to her somehow. A plastic bag with some cans of fish, beans and fruit and a bottle of water.

I'm so excited! Wish me luck!

XX: 3:20pm

I rode past her place and there were still zombies there, although not as many. Maybe ten or so this time. They were again congregating by her front window.

I dismounted my bike a couple of houses away and run up to her front picket fence.

She shouted to me thankfully and indicated for me to throw it onto her roof (accessible from upstairs window). It was a flat roof so I hurled it up into the air and it managed to land without spilling open or toppling to the ground.

The zombie crowd turned for me so I had to dash off for my bike and I made a clean exit.

I'm at home again and I've got about four zombies at my front door. I'm worried that going back and forth is going to attract them to me, but I have to try. About to head back again. I have to get her here.

XX: 5:05pm

Her name is Vera and she's OK. She's at the kitchen table quietly eating some canned fish and beans. She's quite strung out and underfed. She's been in that house since the outbreak. She had only recently bought the house with her boyfriend and was all set to get married (or proposed to). He just went to work in the morning and didn't come back. He's a bricklayer and had a job about 30 minutes away.

She's been alone all this time and has resigned herself to the likelihood he is dead. She boarded up her windows as best she could (from the inside) and rationed her food as best she could. She freely admits she is useless with her hands and is a 'scaredy-cat' so she never even stepped outside once. Not even when zombies weren't around. She said she became a scaredy cat when a neighbour zombie came up to the front door and started pounding and growling. That spooked her good.

She said she was going crazy sitting obsessively at the window looking for her boyfriend or anyone else for that matter. I was the second person she saw. The first was a family in a car two days after the outbreak. They just drove and didn't even see or hear her.

It's day 12 by my calendar so she's been sitting at that window for 10 days. She thinks the zombies were crowding by her window as they could smell her. I must admit through the boards I couldn't see through. I never stopped to question whether zombies could smell people.

Vera's like a little kitten that has been given a kick by her owner. She's very shy, wary and skittish. She twitches now and then, blinking hard for no reason. She must just be strung out. Hopefully now that she's here with me she can relax and get her strength back up.

It was difficult to coax her out of her house. I had to kill off all the zombies around her house and it was risky and took a long time, but I did it. I took my time, not wishing to rush anything or do anything stupid. I kept on my toes, kept my distance and killed off zombies that strayed too far from the main pack one at a time until there were none left. Mind you, I was half covered in congealed blood, so I didn't exactly look like a knight in shining armour.

Only when the street was clear (30-odd dead zombies later) did she open her front door and poke her head out warily. We walked back home. I had my axe up and ready the whole time as she wheeled the bike. I had to kill of another 20 or so zombies on the way back (a 20 minute walk), but we probably dodged about 50 more. The streets are wide here thankfully.

She almost panicked and ran off a couple of times and her uneasy screams and whimpers certainly attracted more zombies than I would have liked, but I don't blame her. When we finally got home she collapsed on my bed and started crying. And then wrapped me in a hug and wouldn't let go for minutes yet.

She's calmer now and very tired. You can see the stress she's endured on her face. She an attractive girl. 27 years old, but she's gaunt from malnutrition. We'll fix that though.

I've done an inventory on our food and I think we've got enough food for the both of us for about a week. We've got quite a lot of rice and pasta which I intend to soak in water and chew. No fuel for proper boiling at the moment.

I think we'll take it easy today. We'll talk and get our strength up and figure out what we're going to do next. I still plan on hopping in the car and getting out of here, but I'd like to get more supplies.

Man it is good to have someone else with me...

There's zombies at the front door. About 10 or 15 loitering around the front yard and the side gate. The house is secure so I'm not worried, but I'll keep an eye on them all the same.

I've got an idea for an easy way to kill them off if need be. The security shutters can only be opened by a winch inside. You can't lift it open from outside. I'm thinking to open it a little (say two inches) and stab zombies with my fence shaft. It's a solid steel pole about 5 foot long with a butt on one end and sharpened on the other. A good weapon I think.

Hopefully I can stab zombies in relative safety through the window and thin out their numbers if need be.

Vera is tired and so am I. Time to sleep. I'll keep watch for a couple of hours first though.


	16. Chapter 16

Captain's Log 4/4/2012: day 13, 8:10 am

I ended up having to use my fence shaft later that evening as Vera was very on edge with the constant scratching and moaning outside. It's quite unnerving knowing that you're sitting on the couch trying to have a talk and there's 10 to 15 blood thirsty monsters trying their best to break in and kill you. It's very creepy and off-putting and I've got no idea how she maintained her sanity after 10 days of it.

It would have driven me crazy.

Anyway, the fence shaft didn't actually work that well. Trying to stab zombies in the face (or eyes specifically) through the window slit using a heavy 5 foot long metal spear is awkward at best. The bottom slit of the window is about head height so zombie try to get both their hands and heads in. I then line up the shot and stab the zombie through the mouth and out the back of their head. Enough to smash the spinal cord and do the job it seems. Dirty work though.

A limp body is heavy so I have to be careful not to let the body drop and take the pole with it. A firm grip and a pull and the body slips off the pole and falls to the ground and another target is lined up. It took about 20 minutes and it's tiring, but the job got done. No more loiterers now.

As cold and inhuman as it seems, if I'm going to be killing zombies then I prefer to do it this way. Nevermind it's safer than going outside and engaging, but it's also relatively clean. I've gone through quite a lot of clothes with blood splatter all over them. Last night was 15 odd zombies, this morning it was another couple.

I'll head out soon when it appears clear and distribute the bodies. They're piling up and that could be dangerous. I'd hate if one got enough purchase to somehow get on the roof or something absurd like that.

I'm finding I'm definitely getting desensitised. I re-read my diary and almost laughed about how much I vomited at the start of all this mess. Haven't vomited since day 3 or 4 now. I've even worked up an appetite with this morning's two kills.

As morbid as that sounds, I'm treating that as a positive.

The zombies aren't human to me. They're not people. They're just enemies that I must kill or avoid.

The zombies that this doesn't apply to though are children. They get to me, but I try not to think about. Not that easy to drive it from my mind though. I still don't know what's happened to Lalie and the kids. No idea if they are alive or dead or undead. Puzzling that the house was abandoned. No blood stains and the car was still here. If they ran I would have expected Lalie bundled them in the car.

But she didn't.

This is the worry that makes me feel sick.

I found I haven't until lately thought of my extended family that much. My Mum, Dad and brothers and they're families and friends and my friends. I've been focusing on my own family to the exclusion of all others up to now.

Not sure what to make of it all. It's too dangerous to find any of them except for my older brother Peter. He lives 300kms to the north in a country where he's a high school teacher. That's where I'll head and that's perhaps where my other family may be.

On that note, I intend to go there, but I'm worried about my car having sufficient fuel in the tank to get there. It should. Half tank gets up to 500 kms.

Vera is sitting quietly in the lounge. I'll run the plan by her. It would be good to get out of here today.

XX 8:50am

She likes the plan. Her family is similar to mine in that they all live close enough to the city and suburbs to make it too dangerous to look for them. Presume they are dead and cannot be help. This girl sees sense. I am so relieved.

We're going to pack supplies into garbage bags that we can simply sling into the Golf's backseat and boot and simply drive off. I need to plan the route however as the highway is a 15km journey across the Western Ring Road. It may be blocked. Don't like it. There may not be a choice though. Another route might drain the tank and we'd have to chance finding another car.

Risky.

XX 10:00 am

We're about to leave. Vera will drive and I will navigate and be the primary defender if need be. Supplies are ready to go. No zombies outside. We'll take the Calder Freeway as planned and hope for the best. If the road are blocked, we can always turn around and come back.

Wish us luck.

XX 10:30am

Notes as we go. Ring Road is blocked up. We went about 2 kilometres down the road before we saw a crash site blocking the road and much of the open grass alongside the road. Enough zombies milling about as well. Too dangerous so we're trying another route up towards Hurstbridge, which is secondary single lane roads. Back streets almost. Doesn't carry much peak hour traffic and is a relatively significant detour, but is probably safest. So far so good.

XX 11:15am

Roads have been littered with crashed cars and milling zombies, but we've gone slowly and carefully where necessary and so far so good. We've just left Kinglake and the roads and pretty empty. No signs of life thus far. Fuel gauge is reading 400kms until empty. It will be about 400kms to get to Boort (my brother's town). Roads and gentle winds through forests and hills. Farms and empty pasture.

Vera has been a great driver thus far. Surprising cool head. It's unnerving driving the car around zombies as opposed to mowing them down. Wouldn't want a zombie coming through the windscreen...

XX12:00pm

We''re just outside of Puckapunyal past Seymour. About 250 kms to go and we're stopping for lunch by the road side. It's open and empty out here. I feel safe. I look around in every direction and I can't see a single house, let alone a zombie wandering around.

Country air.

Fresh country air.

No more rotten stink.

Man it feels great. Feel so free.

Yet somewhat apprehensive. I don't want to get my hopes up too high in case my brother is not alive. I also would hate to have a flat tyre or empty tank out here like this amongst the grassland, but then again we'd come across a house at some point and could either get shelter or a car. We could even probably find some stray cattle or sheep and have a steak cooked over a fire (I brought matches)...

Vera is relaxed as well. She's nice company. We've been talking about our past lives and what we'll miss and what we won't. Vera didn't like her mother in law and her mother in law seemed to despise her. Vera is Italian and her husband-to-be-sort-of as she calls him was Turkish. He was a modern and liberal kind of guy, but his family was quite rigid in their traditions and beliefs.

None of that matters now though.

We both miss fresh food and running hot water. We miss the noise of other people, electricity, TV and even little things like the sound of the odd plane flying overhead. Streetlights, new graffiti, fresh bread and shopping trolleys with wobbly wheels that pish the trolley oddly to the left no matter what you do...

Time to get back on the road again.

XX 1:30pm

DISASTER!

OH MY GOD WHY DID THIS HAVE TO HAPPEN!

.

.

.

Just kidding. We're fine. We're about to come up to Bendigo. Biggest country town in the central Victorian area. It's a mini city and we've gotta drive through it.

Already we're seeing the odd zombie wandering across the road. I'm nervous and so is Vera. We'll just have to take it steady as she goes and keep our nerve. I haven't been to Bendigo much, but I remember that the highway we want doesn't require us to go through the central business district, just the outer suburbia. Hopefully not too bad.

Just passed a full blown car crash site. Broken glass and dried blood splattered across the shattered windshield and bonnet. No bodies and no movement. Abandoned.

Not a great sign.

We've probably got about another 100 kilometres to go once we get through Bendigo and so far we've averaged seeing one zombie on or near the road every 50-odd kilometres of travel until the last 20 kms. Getting more frequent, but no trouble. We just need to keep an eye out for them.

The fuel gauge is keeping up the suspense with 110 kms left on the range counter.

XX 2:20pm

Gotta be fucking kidding me. We're at the Durham Ox (a piss weak landmark about 20 kms from Boort) and we've got a broken axle. A POTHOLE!

All these zombies and a fucking POTHOLE gets us!

WTF!

!#*&%#(*&^(

PENIS!

There's a house we passed about 1 kms back the way. We'll walk there and see what's what. See if we can get a car or even bikes or something. Saw a few lone zombies wandering amongst the trees and scrub so shouldn't be a problem.

I'm leaving a note under the Golf's front wiper noting the time and what happened. Hopefully if there's anyone around they can find us.

XX 3:30pm

House had one zombie inside. A middle aged woman. Disgusting sight. She was hideously overweight and her stomach had been torn open and her guts and intestines had half-spilled out of her. Made me wretch.

I coaxed her outside and took her out with the butt of the axe to her temple.

Her house stinks and her car has a dead battery.

GREAT!

She's got some canned stuff, rice and pasta and her own water tank and bottled water (country folk are often off the mains water and have to make do).

We'll walk and find another house. This one is not defendable.

We'll try back up the road again.

XX

SHIT! We're tryi-


	17. Chapter 17

Captain's Log 6/4/2012: day 15, 1:30am

It's been two days since my last entry and it's the middle of the night.

A lot has happened.

I finally have some secure time to jot everything down so I'll start from the beginning.

We were looking for another house to see if there was any shelter to bunker down or a car. We found the next house and cautiously proceeded inside. The front door was broken apart, the door latch smashed. We searched the house and initially found nothing on the ground floor. The second story was next. We were in a bedroom and were moving to leave before 5 zombies lurched through the doorway at us fro nowhere.

Vera panicked and I got the fright of my life. I smashed the window with my axe and dived out through the broken glass. I ran with a piece of glass lodged in my right shoulder about the size and shape of a pinky finger. I didn't realise until later when I had run to the roadside and had a moment to regain my sanity. It was bleeding quite badly, especially when I pulled the shard out.

Vera was still inside. I couldn't hear her screaming.

My right arm started to go dead and I started panicking at the thought of attacking those zombies and getting their blood in my cut. I panicked and ran away to the first house.

I left Vera behind. I had no idea whether she somehow got away, was fighting them or was being torn apart.

I finally got back to the first house without any zombies following me as far as I could tell. I was pale and really lethargic. I had been bleeding quite a lot it seemed.

I checked the bathroom cupboards and thankfully found one of those little first aid kits you can buy from the supermarket for cheap. There was gauze and bandages and I wrapped it up as best I could.

Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, it was burning.

And here's the scary part for me.

It's been two days since then and only just an hour ago I became aware. I have no memory of the past two days.

And I feel really sick. Really sick. I'm pale and devilishly thirsty and hungry.

I've eaten, but I'm still hungry. I've downed an entire bottle of water and I'm still thirsty...

I'm freaking out. Am I infected? Am I turning? Slowly?

I've changed my bandage (last one) and the site is angry, red and swollen. Hurts like buggery.

What the hell's going on?

Vera must be dead.

This is not gooood.

Nnnot god.

Nnnnn nnn—

XX

.

.

.

heD hERts.

HuNgeRry. FoOodd.

Kiiiill.

.

.

.

.

.

KKil

.

..

.

.

bAD.

.

.

.

.

XX

This is Peter. Ben's brother. We went out on patrol and found the note on the car at the Ox.

Not sure what's going on, but Ben is extremely sick. It looks like he might be turning, but resisting somehow. He's very feverish and pale. Brought him into town and Mish, our doctor (dental nurse – close enough) is overseeing him.

Got him tied down just in case.

I've read the diary.

Mum, Dad and the rest of the family are not here. Nor Lalie and the kids.

I hoped. I held out all hope for even just one of them to be safe.

Please. Let my brother live...


	18. Chapter 18

Captain's Log 8/4/2012: day 17, 10:30am

Ben here. I'm alive.

I am in a comfortable bed. I am clean and relaxed.

I have a bastard of a headache, though.

I am in Boort. My brother is here along with 11 other survivors and we're all bunkered down in the local school gymnasium. There's lots of room and only two doors out of here that have been securely barricaded.

It has been four days since the incident at that house when I jumped out the window and left Vera for dead (it has since been confirmed that she is. Her disfigured and torn body was found at the house in several rooms...).

It appears that through the somewhat deep cut in my shoulder I contracted some sort of zombie infection. Our current knowledge of the zombie virus is that it IS some sort of virus and works thusly:

The initial flu strain turned people into zombies. The mortality rate was not 100% though.

Digestion of zombie fluids (e.g. getting some zombie blood splatter in your mouth) doesn't turn you, but it is obviously not good for you.

Blood-to-blood contact (e.g. zombie blood seeping into an open wound) makes the patient sick and turn within a day or two.

Bites and scratches are the same as above (i.e. turn within one or two days).

Death with zombie contact (bites and scratches) leads to near-instant turning on death.

Death not involving zombies at all (e.g. gunshot, car crash etc) does not involve turning.

I appear to have fallen into category 3 being blood to blood contact, however not directly. It was 12 days into the zombie crisis when the glass stabbed me and I hadn't washed in all that time properly. My skin was grimy. We think there were some trace elements of zombie blood amongst the grime and I became infected.

However we think that it was a reduced or diluted dose. Something like that. I became very sick and exhibited zombie-type tendencies (see last entry in the diary), but managed to break the fever and recover.

This is the first time that has happened as far as anyone here knows.

I don't know if I am fortunate because of a natural resistance or a half-assed infection.

In any case, I am alive and recovering. And obviously glad for it.

And glad to see my brother.

Finally, some payoff. Something to be happy about, even if none of my family seems to have made it.

I should tell the story of what has happened here.

It appears Boort residents (about 3,000 between the town itself and homestead within a 30 kilometre radius), experienced the same flu epidemic as back in the city of Melbourne. Same day with the same lead up of people getting sick.

Some recovered, some turned. Anecdotally, the mortality rate from the flu is about 50%.

Pandemonium ensued.

Many died. In fact most died on that first day. It's not like it in now. On the initial turn, all the zombies could run and attack at full speed. Caught everyone by surprise. Mass death.

Peter got sick, but recovered as I did and went to school like any normal day (just down the road from his house). As the outbreak manifested, he and some students and teachers took shelter in the gym. Doors locked windows closed, they hid.

The doors were braced and barricaded with heavy equipment and the windows thankfully high enough off the ground and small enough so that no zombie could get in.

There were 20 of them back then. No power or plumbing.

Those 20 people hid and starved after three full days of hiding and confusion (and no help or other survivors) before a decision was made to venture out. This decision was also made on the basis that the formerly running zombies started to lurch around and slow down to what they are now.

Of the four that went out, three came back, but came back with precious food and bottles of water from the corner store down the street.

The next day necessitated another venture and four again went out, but none returned this time. Down to 15 people.

Peter did not participate as his back is not the best and running is not exactly in his genes, but it was time for him to step up and venture out with another party.

This time they went for a friend's house and procured his 4 wheel drive. Supply runs became more productive and safer over the next few days, although one child died from lack of insulin (diabetes), one committed suicide and one was killed on a supply run. Down to the current 12 survivors.

There are survivors elsewhere in the neighbouring towns and some of the households. For various reasons, these people are sticking things out as separate groups. Known survivors amongst this little network is between 80 and 100 people. There has even been trade amongst these people. More often than not there is co-operation. Food, medicine, water, tools, petrol etc all traded or even simply given as need be.

Country people...

The zombie population is thinning out. Many zombies have been killed within Boort. Peter and another guy had managed to get a 4 wheel drive and reinforce the windscreen with steel mesh from a shopping trolley. They then proceeded to drive around town mowing down whatever was in the way. Zombies were run over and crushed left, right and centre.

Many zombies also seem to have simply wandered off into the expansive country side.

For now, the situation is relatively secure. Zombies still roam the township, but they're much less than they were. You could walk down the street (100 metre stretch) and encounter 10 or less.

That's not bad.

The petrol station has a makeshift pump installed and fuel has been nicely stockpiled.

The supermarket has been stripped and produce relocated within the safety of the gym.

Cows and sheep still roam the paddocks out of town and are on standby for milk and meat. There are also chickens for eggs as well kept in a hutch down the road.

Houses are also progressively searched and secured although it is dangerous work. More often than not the plan of attack is to lure the zombies out onto the street to be mowed down by the 4WD. Sensible.

No survivors have come up the road like me mainly because Boort is a bit of an out-of-the-way town. Places much earlier on the road up from Melbourne are more likely to have survivors than here. The town is planning an expedition to find out. I relayed what I came across.

So now inclusive of my presence, this outfit is now 13 people strong. Mabel is an ex-dental nurse and the school's English teacher. She's 62 years old. She's looking after me while I recover. I'm not yet on my feet properly, but I can hobble to the toilet.

I am very weak, both from the infection and malnutrition and dehydration.

But I'm in good spirits relatively speaking. My brother is alive and there's a community here. I feel safe for the first time since being pulled into the balcony of the nut shop by Youssef and the gang.

Most of the people here are students of the school. Peter, Mabel and Antony are the only actual adults. The rest are an even mix of girls and boys between the ages of 14 and 17.

These kids have been asking me heaps of questions about the city and what's happened to me. I'm glad I make them happy and am breaking the frightening monotony of this new world. They are scared. Some feign bravery and a cavalier attitude, but I heard crying last night from more than one person.

I hope I get better soon. I want to help out here. There's plenty to be done. I want to put myself on the line for these people. If I can't defend my own family I can defend these guys.

Antony was the deputy principal of the school so he's the leader of this outfit. He's a nice guy and together they've done a good job. They're organised and he's not afraid to get his hands dirty.

Often it is Antony and John (17 year old rugby player – stocky kid) on the ground and Peter at the wheel of the 4WD. They work well together.

I had a dodgy sleep last night. I'm tired.

Catch you later.

XX 2:00pm

Clean clothes and shoes.

I'm up on my feet and walking circles around the inside of the gym. I'm getting better fast.

Man it's good to see my brother. He's lost weight... haha.

We've had a good talk and a good cry. He's lost people important to him and I've lost mine and we've lost people important to both of us. We talked about what will happen next. The future. We both decided it was a good idea not to think about it too much beyond the next few days and weeks because the long term is so uncertain and depressing.

The whole world. It must have also happened around the globe.

Man.

It hit me then.

The whole world is dead and scavenging like us. No one has heard anything to indicate otherwise. There's been no army, no planes, choppers. No government response.

If this was isolated to Australia, we'd have heard something by now. Especially in the city where I was.

Nothing.

Post-apocalyptic world.

Pete and I like our horror movies. Dawn of the Dead anyone? Now it is reality...

How bizarre.

I'm trying to remember everyone's names. There's:

ADULTS:

Peter

Antony

Mabel

(Me)

KIDS:

John 17 (the rugby kid)

Zack 16

Kate 16

Katey 16 (that's not confusing is it?)

Cateline 16 (now it's confusing...)

Nina 15

Dave 15

Charlie 14

Libby 14

Poor kids are traumatised, scared and bored all at the same time.

This gym is a bit of a prison. Many are scared to even step out the main door even when the coast is clear. Some of the girls have been scratching themselves and sit in the corner al lot hiding behind their hair. The boys are more vocal about it. Angry. But too scared to take it out on the zombies. So they tangle themselves up inside.

Poor kids.

I made the suggestion to Peter to find a house with solar panels. Get some crude electricity running. If these kids could fire up an Xbox or watch some movies it would do wonders I think. Pete and Antony thought it was a great idea. Mabel suggested a couple of houses. Here's hoping.

JAP (John, Antony and Peter) are going to scope these houses out.

XX 4pm

Things are looking good. They found a house with solar panels and they walked inside and tried the light switch. Nothing.

They tried the next house... one of the bedrooms lights was already on! They tried the TV and put in a DVD and it worked!

This second house appears to have a battery system (which the first does not). This house is also double story. It is not altogether very secure, but it can be made secure. All the windows can be boarded up, but it will take time.

Nevertheless, everyone likes the idea. A generation of kids all with iPhones and internet and computers are suddenly off line. They're craving some technology and diversion. I think it will work well.

It's getting late now. The sun is already going down and it's getting cold. Autumn is peeling off and winter is coming. It's very cold in the mornings and the day time as well. Cold all round.

Anyway, I think they're planning a little mini party for me tonight.

Has been a long time since I last had any fun...


	19. Chapter 19

Captain's Log 9/4/2012: day 18, 10:30am

Last night was low key, but the group used me as an excuse to get some music going. Peter can play guitar and a few of the girls like to sing so they improvised.

It was nice I have to admit and of course my brother is a demon on guitar. He suggested we grab the drum kit from the school music room some time so I can get back on the drums. We can jam.

I am seriously looking forward to that... seriously. I miss my drums.

I went outside the gym today. I insisted on using my axe on a couple of zombies and showed off my technique which everyone likes. The "kick'n'chop" as it has been dubbed.

I'm feeling good. I've got my strength back more or less. I can be productive now.

Spirits are high, sort of. The prospect of a movie and Xbox is seriously appealing to these kids, but some are hesitant to get their hopes up. I can't blame them.

Cateline especially has been withdrawn and her friends are doing their best to try and coax her out of her shell. Kate explained it to me. She's an only child to a single mother and they were very close. She was all Cateline had and she's gone.

The older kids seem to be getting their heads around this whole mess better than the 14 year olds, but not by much. As I said yesterday, they're bored with nothing to do so have nothing else to think about, but for traumatic revisitations of the zombie outbreak and thinking of lost family and friends.

John especially had it hard this morning. He came back stone-faced and angry after this morning's patrol. He saw his mother wandering the streets. He insisted he should be the one to kill her, but couldn't do it. Antony ended up stepping in and breaking her skull with a sledgehammer as John cried and sulked in the 4WD. Can't blame him.

But otherwise, many of the zombies wandering town and even right outside the gym are friends and family. Known people. This is a school after all so undead teachers and children are out and about and it's a daily torture. Seeing your best school friend lurching around with their intestines dragging in the dirt behind them like a tail isn't exactly the easiest thing to see, never mind watching them get smashed in the head with a sledgehammer.

A few of us are off to help out board up the solar panel house and get it ready for use. The place will also need a clean. I'm heading off with them.

XX - 5pm

We've had a brainwave.

Instead of securing the house, we're going to run a line from the house to the gym using the overhead power lines. Essentially a long extension cord.

Antony was the man for the job and he climbed the power pole (with steel rungs helpfully already embedded in the pole, outside) and he cut the wires and pulled it down to the ground. We "hot wired" the power cable onto the house's fuse box and did the same at the other end of the street near the school. We had to cut the power cable from a few streets away and pull it down so that there would be 200-odd metres of slack cable from the school's entrance so that it could reach the gym. We hacked the cable end and hot wired it to a power board with six power plugs.

Voila!

A line from the house, along the power lines to the gym. A long distance power point!

We took along a table lamp to test and it works!

There's artificial light as we speak in the gym.

Now we've got to cart the TV and Xbox over here and we've voted Pete's own set up. He's got a huge 50 inch TV, PS3, Xbox and _hundreds_ (that's right hundreds) of movies to choose from. Pete's a serious nerd. He collects movies, metal music, comics and video games...

All the while Pete, Jack and I ran interference amongst the encroaching zombie population and killed them off where necessary. The streets were not too loaded with zombies and we didn't make altogether that much noise to attract attention. Pete took many out with the 4WD and Jack and I stood guard for zombie that didn't come off the street or Pete missed them.

We worked pretty well as a team and we played things pretty safe. Communication is key. We were always talking and keeping in contact. None of this clichéd horror movie rubbish where one of us walks off alone... None of them got within 5 metres of the power poles that Antony had climbed up. We had to defend that at all costs because if one managed to climb up, Antony would have nowhere to go. Thankfully there weren't really that many zombies to begin with. As I've mentioned before, the town population has thinned out and there weren't any packs larger than 5 or 6. We probably killed off 100 zombies today with Pete doing the majority of the killing in the 4WD. Between Jack and I, we offed about 15 zombies over a 4 hour period.

We're back in the gym now, safe and sound.

Pete's plugging in the TV now...

XX: 5:30

AND  
>IT<br>WORKS!

You should have heard the cheer, the cacophonous noise that reverberated in the gym when the 30th Century Fox logo came up and the Futurama intro started playing.

My God!

HAHA!

What a development!

The kids love Bender...

I'm already thinking of the possibilities now.

Electricity.

More than anything refrigeration will be a boon for us. We could keep milk and meat... Potentially no more rotten food.

We'll have to test out how much the battery can hold and handle. I suppose we'll find out soon enough. Pete's TV looks pretty power hungry.

Hey! COLD beer!

Futurama is awesome even though I've seen these episodes before...

Time for some Xbox...

XX 3am

9 hours straight on the Xbox and the power finally gave out.

Mind you a lamp was also running for most of that too.

Pretty awesome.

We'll let the panels get back on song tomorrow and again test how much and how fast the battery can charge up again. Hopefully it's a sunny day.

Morale has lifted so much today... We heard laughter.

Real care-free laughter.

That's been so rare this past couple of weeks.

Bedtime.


	20. Chapter 20

Captain's Log 10/4/2012: day 19, 12:00pm

We're in trouble.

We needed to get some supplies and went out to get them. Mostly we needed firewood and pots so we can boil water (captured water needs to be boiled before drinking to ensure no one gets sick).

We got to the supermarket in the town centre and found what we needed inside. The zombies around were nothing we couldn't handle. We parked the 4WD by the front entrance and John and I got out and ran interference, smashing down zombies and clearing the area outside. John then proceeded inside and killed off any zombies he found (only four), while I guarded the outside.

We both stood guard outside at the entrance as Pete and Antony went inside. There were about 20 zombies slowly hobbling towards us from all directions, but they were evenly spread out and some were over 100 metres away.

Pete and Antony were supposed to take only one minute maximum, but about 20 seconds in there's a nasty scream. Antony's voice and Peter is freaking out.

We go in and a zombie is on top of Antony and there's blood spurting everywhere. Pete is tugging on the thing's leg trying to pull it off him.

John goes in and kick charges the zombie off Antony and smashes it with his sledgehammer.

I'm standing guard at the entrance swapping back and forth between Pete and John panicking over Antony and the crowd of zombies closing in on us.

Pete and john quickly sling Antony on their shoulders and drag him to the car, throwing him into the back. There's a nasty trail of blood the whole way and he's choking and gurgling as Pete and John are screaming and freaking out. I'm at the wheel.

I'm borderline about to lose my mind as well when Pete and John shout at me to pull over.

He's dead and we're all scared shitless he's about to turn.

Which is what he does just as Pete and John throw him out the back window.

They're still screaming and panicking and I'm shitting myself as I get us going again with Antony already up on his feet and sprinting after us.

I mow down a couple of zombies on my way down the main strip, gathering speed. I want to get away from him, get some distance, turn around and flatten him.

Which is what I tell Pete and John and they go quiet.

Eventually I get enough clear distance to exact the plan, but I'll not forget the moment Antony's face splattered on the top rung of the bull bar and disappeared under the bonnet, followed by the queasy lurch in my stomach as the car bounced over his body.

"He's dead." Pete confirms grimly.

"What do we do?" John asks.

"We go for a little drive and get our heads around what just happened." I say and that's what we do for the next half hour.

We get out on the exit road where there are no zombies and plenty of room. We open the windows to let the dank bloody smell out. It's sickening.

"How the fuck did that happen?" Pete asks and that's when it all goes even more pear-shaped.

I couldn't help it. I looked at John. A dirty look. He was supposed to clear the store, and evidently he fucked up. He left one behind somehow.

John goes ballistic and starts punching me in the back of my head and I struggle to keep the car from ploughing into a tree. I crouch down and he starts on Pete.

Which I can't tolerate. I stop the car, get out, open the back door and pull him out onto the road with me (which he falls onto face first almost).

It turns into a fist fight which I sort of won because John was blood drunk and aiming with his fists, whereas I was intent on wrapping myself on him and sagging him down on the ground. He's struggling madly and he's about to get the drop on me, but a short hard jab into his balls and he's down for the count.

Pete comes out with a split lip and a hand over his left eye. He's fine, but neither of us are used to hand to hand fighting, let alone getting hit. So we're all spent.

We sat there for what seemed like an hour, but was only 5 or 6 minutes as we take in what happened and John sobs on the asphalt.

We end up back in the 4WD when zombies start bearing down on us from the main road a little too close.

Time to head back, but I mow down a good 20 zombies on the way. It's satisfying in a disgusting and morbid kind of way and helps me feel better.

Until we park back at the gym and explain what happened.

The rest of the group don't take it well and John storms off to hide in the change rooms. A couple of friends go with him and I can hear muffled shouting through the brick walls. There's a nasty moribund pall over everyone, all of us also half –paralysed in shock.

I really don't feel like it, but we really actually need those pots and timber because we're almost completely out of clean water with no fuel to boil up the run-off water that we have (piped from the roof last rainy day). So Pete and I head off with two volunteers, Dave and Charlie (both 14). They, with Pete, will get what we need and I'll guard.

We gotta go. John seems to have calmed down enough for his muffled shouting to have stopped.

XX: 2pm

We're back, intact and with what we need. No casualties and Dave and Charlie held their nerve well as did Pete. Mabel is talking with John in the change rooms (which John has thus far refused to leave) so we're starting the fire now. It'll take a while before the water boils and I'm parched.

Dave and Charlie are bragging about their outing to the others. At least they're happy.

For now. We lost someone good today. A top shelf guy.

God damn it.

XX 4pm

I need to stay active so I voted we go out again and get some petrol which we actually do need. We've been driving the 4WD around a lot doing runs and mowing down zombies and the tank is getting low.

Charlie, Pete and Dave are up again with myself guarding.

Be right back.

XX 4:30pm

Dave and Charlie got a bit spooked this time, but did well enough. Pete's a teacher so he knows how to get them to function and keep them in line. And how to get them to relax and focus.

We arrive at the petrol station down the road and park by the fuel pump. It's a crude manual pump rigged by the tank manhole in the ground. When you open those manholes and unscrew the cap, there's a fist sized hole direct down to the underground tank, so they jerry-rigged a hose and hand pump. It's slow going and wears the arms out, but does the job. Took about 10 minutes to fill 60 litres.

Pete and Dave worked the pumped while I was on guard duty with Charlie as my spotter.

He understood his role, which was mainly to keep an eye on my back and on Pete and Dave. Don't want any zombies sneaking up on anybody.

I smashed down about 15 zombies this time with my axe and mowed down about another 20 with the 4WD when we were finished.

Another clean run made me feel better.

XX 6pm

It's steamed rice (lots of it) with canned peas and carrots with spam meat for dinner tonight. Every bowl was full of rice with only sprinkles of the peas carrot and spam really. Does the job.

Pete's putting on a movie. Brazil. That old one. Bizarre. Loved it when I was a kid.

Still no sign of John. Still exiled himself away. He must be very ashamed. I would want to do the same if I had done that. I would hate to face the music too... anyway...


	21. Chapter 21

Captain's Log 11/4/2012: day 20, 8:00am

Zombie Jebus...

John is gone and so is Cateline (the withdrawn girl). They apparently left in the middle of the night. Katey saw them and John threatened that he'd kill her if she said anything so she kept her mouth shut until now. She's very upset.

I'm pissed, because that's not the whole story.

They stole the 4WD.

If they left in the middle of the night they're long gone and may very well be out of petrol somewhere.

Thankfully, John and Cateline didn't take any food or water with them.

Three people lost in two days. Two of them particularly useful people.

The kids are a bit panicky about it and are gossiping amongst themselves. I'm not sure whether they're getting ideas or are thinking how stupid of them to do that.

It's down to Mabel, Pete and myself as the adults now. Down to an even ten people.

We need to organise another car, preferably another 4WD.

I've already discussed it with Mabel and Pete and they think the same, but Pete is rattled after yesterday's incident. He's not up for going out today.

I'm going to go out on my own and see what I can find in town. I've looked out the window and there are a couple of zombies wandering outside, but that's it.

It's bitterly cold this morning. The clouds are coming in and it looks like it wants to rain today. Heavy rain. If I'm going to find transport, I'd better get it done quick. It's left over rice from last night for breakfast. Better choke it down fast.

XX: 9:30am

It started raining about 15 minutes after I left the gym and it was a blessing actually. As wet as I got (never mind I was wearing a Driza-Bone jacket that kept most of the rain out), it was good cover. The rain seemed to distract and annoy the zombies. They would spot me, hone in on me and then seem to lose me and wander off in a bit of a tangent. Still in my general direction, but not right at me.

I managed even to get right up to one, skip around behind it and it lost me and wandered off while I simply stood behind it.

It was almost funny!

I found a couple of good candidates parked in driveways and on the streets. The dangerous part would be not in being on the street but going inside houses to look for keys.

The first one I found, a Landcruiser Prado with a bull bar, was parked in a car port and there were two zombies inside, a middle aged man with half his face missing and a little girl (a toddler) with broken legs that crawled on the floor. Spooky sight and made me sick. Thought of my kids again.

I had to hold back sobs as I flattened the little girl's head into the carpet with my axe.

Found keys on a hook in the kitchen (and bagged some tinned vegies and fish while I was at it). Tried the engine and the 4WD took a couple turns before it fired up and I carefully drove it back to the gym before heading out to find another one (I dropped in the tinned food first to Mabel) . I was feeling confident in the rain.

I found another 4WD (a Nissan Discovery also with a bull bar) almost on the other side of town parked out front. The zombies were more dense and prevalent there, but nothing I couldn't manage. The house had four zombies insides. Mum, Dad and two teenage boys, all relatively unscathed besides obviously being undead. I kick and smashed each of them in turn, but couldn't find the keys.

I had to leave when a small conga line of zombies started coming in through the front door. I smashed through a lounge window and simply climbed over the side gate back out onto the street. A quick jog and they were left behind.

Found another 4WD (Holden Captiva) with a bull bar the street down the way from there. House was empty and the keys helpfully sitting in a bowl of coins on the kitchen bench. I hopped in the Holden and drove it back with no fuss.

I'm back at the gym now and everyone's happier to see two more cars parked outside. We'll still need to reinforce the windscreen with the shopping trolley trick. On the last one they simply smashed a shopping trolley up and grafted the metal grill to the windscreen with lots and lots of gaffer tape wound around the windscreen frame. It was actually very strong. We'll do the same, but I'll need to get a couple of trolleys. Should be easy as we simply need to just drive to the supermarket, grab a trolley or two, chuck them in the back and drove off again.

Both of the 4WD's have only half tanks full though. We've got spare containers already filled on standby sitting here in the gym if we need them.

Time to go get a couple of trolleys. Dave and Charlie have volunteered. They want to help.

I'll brief them on the plan and then we'll go.

XX: 10:30am

Two trolleys packed with no fuss. We drove up, found two trolleys in the car park with no zombies nearby and quickly jumped out and shoved them into the back (seats folded down). Clean and quick and we're back already.

The hard part now will be smashing the trolley's apart until we've got a nice flat grill to strap to the windshield.

I'm putting my feet up and watching some more Futurama with the kids while Dave, Charlie and Zack take turns pounding the trolleys. It's coming along. They're having fun actually.

XX: 2pm

I sat chatting with Katey and Kate for a while. Finally actually spoke with some of the kids and simply got to know them. They're nice girls. Country girls.

There were tears (mainly from their side of course) and they listened to my story. How I got here. I didn't lie about anything. No superhero stories from me. We're all here simply to survive.

Kate had two brothers (younger) and a Mum and Dad. Dad was a carpenter. Last she saw any of them was the usual goodbye on her way to school with her friends.

Katey is similar. One younger brother, Mum and Dad. He worked for the local shire council. Sounds like he was part of admin. Last she saw him and the rest of her family was the morning run to school.

They're bored. Even with the TV set up, they want t go outside. Seems entirely normal to me. They haven't really properly felt sunshine since Z-day. I think we should take the two 4WD's when they're ready and go out for the day. Have an outing. Even if it is just a walk in a field. Some dirt under they're feet. Some fresh air and sunshine.

Even looking at them they are pale. They're attractive girls I suppose.

It looks like the trolleys are ready.

XX: 3pm

I stood guard whilst Pete and the kids taped up the cars with the grills. We've got heaps of tape left over even now as they stockpiled quite a lot of it as part of fixing up the original 4WD.

I had to smash down three zombies. I left the last one to show the kids. It was a thin looking middle aged man (thankfully no one recognised him) and we sort of played with him. I thought it would be a good idea to let the kids confront the enemy and see that if you know what you're doing and you hold your nerve, they're not quite that scary.

Put it down to training. These kids will need to adapt to this new world. They'll need to be able to look after themselves. No room for princesses and weaklings anymore. It's elbow grease and thick skin from now on. I've had to adapt and they do too.

I even let Zack and Charlie practise kicking the zombie down. Repeatedly. I supervised very carefully of course. I wound a rope around its neck so I could pull it away if things got out of hand. Zack and Charlie got their practise and were shit scared doing it, but I'm proud they mustered up the courage. Dave was hesitant and the girls all backed off bar one.

Nina (15) of all people. I never paid much attention to her, but she's a bit of a tough kid. Truth be told she did the best of anyone and seemed the least phased or scared of it all.

When the zombie lurched towards them, the girls all squealed and flinched away, as did the boys more or less, but Nina got angry.

In the end, we gave her the axe and she did the honours of smashing its face in.

And she did well. A clean hit with secure footing.

It was at that time that another couple of zombies wandered around the corner down across the basketball court and spotted us.

I asked Nina if she wanted to do it again, but she decided she'd had enough.

Not to be out-done by a girl, Zack volunteered.

We waited for the two zombies to get closer and I smashed down one of them, the larger of the two, being a slightly obese middle-aged woman.

The other was a young girl, whom we didn't realise until Kate came closer and recognise her that it was Petra. A school friend. I feel so stupid. I should have noticed the bloody school uniform she was wearing...

Kate squealed and cried, but she understood what needed to be done. She said she wanted Petra killed, but insisted on not looking. Her friends escorted her back to the cars and Zack had a go at smashing her down (I roped her around the neck as before).

He kicked her down, but flubbed the overhead chop. The axe glanced off the side of Petra's head and bounced out of his hands as it hit concrete. He was flustered and backed off. I led Petra off a bit to give him room and let him try again.

Which he did. We could see he was really swallowing his fear. This time a clean kick, with a clean hit on the girl's face, but not enough power to break through bone. He tried again and got in another clean hit, breaking the monster's face inward and getting the job done.

He was proud, but reviled. I'll pay it. It is a disgusting thing to do and the other kids watching who were close enough looked close to retching. I didn't.

I must be getting used to this.

And then I felt dumb, because the kids also complained of the smell. The passive smell of nearby zombies is bad, but it's worse when they're walking around right by you or freshly killed. And only then I noticed just how many bodies were simply lying around the gym.

It's disgusting and a health hazard. I resolved to clean up when we got back.

As of right now, we are indeed in an open field 40 km's out of town. There's no one around but us, and that includes any zombies. The kids are running around absorbing the sun and fresh air. They're loving it. They're teenagers, but they're behaving like little kids and it's fantastic to see. As much as I want these kids hardened up and battle ready, I also want them to get the time to celebrate being young humans.

The boys brought a soccer ball and they're organising a game. I'll join in. Mabel and Pete are volunteering to keep watch.

Which team am I on?

XX: 5pm

After about an hour of running around we were ready to go home (strange to use that word). It's getting dark now and we're all sitting comfortably watching some Futurama (the Star Wars ones).

Good spirits.

I also dragged away the zombie corpses outside towards the ditch on the edge of the oval about 40 metres away. I also put dirt and logs over it. Maybe it will cover the smell a bit. Disgusting work and I retched a couple of times (but did not vomit – yay!). Smashed down one errant zombie while I was working. Nearly snuck up on me actually. I should get one of the kids to spot for me next time I do something like that. I'm wondering whether we should make a pyre.

Pete said perhaps not the best idea as our comrades in the neighbouring towns might get the wrong idea and think something is wrong. Maybe we'll let them know first.

A visit to our neighbours might also be a great thing to do. Maybe we could start trading. I'm sure some people would love to come and watch movies...

I quickly raised it with the others and they're for it. They're excited!

Mabel's cooking up pasta with tinned tomatoes, spam and carrots.

.

.

.

It's funny. I just remembered John and Cateline escaped this morning. No one had suggested we look for them. Is that good or bad?

Have we already written them off?

Hopefully they made it to a neighbouring town and have joined another group. It would be a tragedy for them to have both met a bad end.

Maybe we'll find out tomorrow.


	22. Chapter 22

Captain's Log 12/4/2012: day 21, 1:00pm

Sorry I waited until lunch time before I hit the diary, but we all got up early and decided to pay Pyramid Hill a visit. It's a town about half the size of Boort (500 odd people), but at last visit had about 30 survivors. It is about 50km east of Boort.

We got there with no trouble and drove through their little main strip and parked by the town pub / hotel where the survivors are based. It's a good place because the pub downstairs is open with lots of furniture (and booze) and there are rooms upstairs from the hotel. The survivors here are living relatively comfortably, although it sounds like they could use some more supplies. They have a supermarket like us, but not as big and it's getting low on non-perishables. They've been raiding houses within town and while there's a lot of food to pillage, it can be dangerous and three people were killed since we last visited a week ago (before I came).

They've similarly got a couple of reinforced 4WD's up and running and they've got access to a petrol station like us too.

There were some errant zombies wandering through the streets, but few and far between. Pretty sparse. Pyramid Hill is at the base of a hill (duh) and the population is not quite as dense as Boort (not that Boort is dense). So all the houses are spaced out quite a lot, and hence so are the zombies.

We rode down ten or eleven-odd zombies coming up the main road. We could have avoided with ease, but we wanted to test the 4WD's ability to mow them down. They work perfectly well. We even made a game of it in our car. I was driving and when we were coming up on one, the kids in the back would hoot and build up and shout on impact. High fiving and enjoying it like a game.

It was actually quite fun!

Pete was driving the other 4WD and they copied us. They took out another eight.

We won... hehe.

When we pulled up, the pub's heavy oak doors opened immediately and we were welcomed in without hesitation. They were happy to see us.

The pub was dark since the windows were boarded up and they had no electricity so we went upstairs to a small function hall where daylight streamed through the windows freely.

The leader there is George Neumann. Funny guy, short fat and boisterous and I like him very much. His wife was by his side and almost looked like she could have been his sister.

The rest of the 30 survivors are a mix of family members mostly. It was a refreshing sight to see entire families intact, one with two twin girls aged only 4. They were so buzzed they didn't know what to do with themselves and started running around in random directions laughing and giggling and Libby (14) from our group couldn't help but chase after them.

It was noise, noise and noise as we chatted and laughed and introduced each other. These people were excessively welcoming and did not hesitate to offer us breakfast (or brunch for us) of breakfast cereal with long life milk, and threats of pasta and flatbread (almost at the use by date).

We brought tinned fish and ham and some apples we foraged from a roadside tree on the way up, as well as two dozen eggs from our chickens in the hutch down the road from the gym. The eggs caused some excitement. Or 'eggcitement' as the tired joke comes and goes.

A young woman (Brie) volunteered to cook everything up in the kitchen. They don't have electricity, but they do have gas.

We all sat down to tables and started talking. It was only 9am, but some bottles of wine were brought out nonetheless. Otherwise it was orange juice, which went down very well.

We talked and chatted for an hour before the food was served and it was fantastic. A home cooked meal. Hot food that wasn't just boiled rice. There were herbs and spices in it. Salt and pepper. Garlic. How domestic! Nevertheless, it was such a treat.

It seemed like they were doing all the work. They were even waiting on us. Asking constantly of we were happy and if we wanted anything else.

Pete, Mabel and I sat with George and his 'elders' as he called them and we started talking serious.

Neighbouring towns are doing OK and they had been relaying supplies to some. Mitiamo, Leitchville, Kerang, Serpentine and Cohuna amongst others with anywhere from 5 to fifteen survivors in each securely bunkered down and surviving.

I asked him why these people didn't join with him and it seems these people want their space. They love their towns and there's pride in defending it. Seems stupid to me. Why wouldn't you want to be where it is most safe?

He pointed out I'm a city person and I therefore don't understand.

And it seems I am the only city person amongst known ranks.

Major nearby towns including Bendigo and Echuca have not been explored thus far due to the danger factor. No one has come to visit from those towns so the worst has been assumed. Echuca had a population somewhere between 10,000 to 15,000 people and Bendigo is ten times bigger than that. I relayed what I had seen on my way up from Melbourne as I passed through the outskirts of Bendigo (but not the main CBD).

Pyramid Hill is to Boort's east and there are numerous towns to the west of Boort as well. Pete and Antony visited these places early on and they were similarly bunked down in key structures like the local pub or market and were welcoming of visitors, but uncomfortable leaving.

We will need to visit these people again and check up on them.

George did mention that a couple of people movers came through two days ago offering prostitutes for trade. It seems they weren't interested in food, but were most willing to trade for ammunition and guns, of which George's clan has some (farm rifles).

George and the clan of course declined and the caravan moved on south looking for further business. They were secretive as to where they came from. It was trade and business and nothing else. No chit-chat.

They were struck at how organised the outfit looked and frankly the women on offer seemed consenting and not altogether unattractive. That point attracted a backhand slap from his wife.

They must have come from the north somewhere if they were heading south like that. For all we know they could have come from over the border in New South Wales.

The point got me thinking. And it got me scared. It could be a cunning recon plan. Go visit, get prostitutes in that can look around, ask questions, get people talking and even recruit members.

With the recon done, you come in the dead of night with guns and pillage and steal whatever you like. Especially women.

I said that aloud and our table went quiet.

George's wife agreed with me.

Now we are worried. I hope it is not true, but for an outfit like that to not be fussed for food and water, they must have a secured base of operations with dependable or even renewable supplies. This is farmland after all. Cattle, sheep, chickens and pigs. Empty cars everywhere and abandoned petrol stations with thousands of litres of petrol and diesel sitting idle. It would be easy to organise a mobile death squad, especially given the prevalence of farm weapons. Enough people up here collected weapons for recreational or poser value besides working firearms on farms.

There's even the Puckapunyal military base down the road about 150kms. I passed by there on my way up with Vera, but forgot about the base. There would be firearms there and ammunition.

This is concerning...

We'll have to think about this...

Anyway, we raised the fact that we've got TV and an almighty shout went up. Mabel shouted back for them to come tonight. There is a paddock we noticed on the way here that some cows and sheep still wandering about, so would could butcher one or two and cook them up.

The prospect of steak elicited a shout almost as loud as the TV suggestion and party mode engaged.

Brie volunteered to prepare the food. She's the chef for the pub, so she assures us she knows what she is doing. She'll pre butcher the meat into steaks and they'll bring a BBQ and gas bottle to cook the meat.

This camaraderie is fantastic! We are thinking we'd best get back to town and organise a fridge in which to get some cold beer going and also for any spare meat.

XX: 11pm

At Boort. Quick update. Kicking arse. BBQ. Music. Beer. Glenda's hitting on me... HARD!

Woo!


	23. Chapter 23

Captain's Log 27/9/2012: day 181, 11:30am

Yes. It is 27th of September 2012. Day 181.

It's been over 5 months since my last entry and trust me it seems like so many years and people ago. I've been away and finally managed to come back and find this diary and start it again.

Let me give a quick overview of what happened that night, as much as I don't like to remember.

Pete and I were playing to the crowd. He had his electric guitar plugged in with all of his amp settings set to heavy metal. I was on the drum kit pounding away and we played for a good two hours I think. Everyone was having a great time drinking and BBQ-ing inside the gym, both us and the people from Pyramid Hill.

All of a sudden zombies start pouring in and all hell breaks loose. Thinking back, someone must have bumped the door latch or stupidly wanted to get outside and get some air and the zombies outside simply flooded through the door. There were so many. They must have been attracted by the noise we were making.

It was a bloodbath...

I don't remember altogether the exact details, but I've been haunted by the looks of terror... sheer terror and horror on the faces of women and children and men alike. That "Oh God! I'm gonna die! Someone help me!" look that stabs me in the heart every time I think about it or turn my mind back to that night.

I wasn't the only one to escape, but I'm the only one alive now. Three of us managed to get out through a window in the gym change rooms. Pete tried to get through the window, but he was too slow. His back isn't great and he must have locked up in pain or a spasm when he tried to twist through the opening. I just remember that "Oh God!" look on his face as he was pulled back through the window out of my hands. I remember his pleading, crying and terrified cries as he was torn apart inside.

I ran into the night.

I had to get away. I couldn't listen to the screams. The voices all sounded so young. There must be something about that fear just before you die that causes all people to regress into a childlike state. Kids are vulnerable and defenceless and when zombies are all over you, that's exactly what you are for that moment before you die.

.

.

The two people that ran with me didn't last the morning...

..

I've been wandering since. I've kept mostly to myself, although I've made brief stops with other survivors and fortified townships where necessary. I've mostly been travelling around on a bike and you can get around pretty fast. I've been all the way up to Queensland and I was sitting on a beach under a palm tree (as clichéd as that sounds) when the need to go back and find my diary took hold.

There was only one zombie fumbling around inside the gym. A young girl in a matted school dress. She didn't even see me as I snuck up behind her and clocked her over the head with my club.

The gym has remnants of the carnage plastered all over the floor and walls. Rubbish, tables and chairs, clothes law strewn about. Strangely the stage where Peter and I played is untouched apart from one microphone stand having been knocked over. The drum kit is virtually untouched and Pete's guitar was still in its case by his Amp. Blood stains long dried black were everywhere else. The smell wasn't pungent, but I had to really steel myself from vomiting and crying.

I haven't found Pete yet, but I'm looking around for him. His body wasn't in the changerooms. His blood (and likely others as well) coated the floor with a black crust. I'm not sure if he was dragged away and devoured completely or he reanimated and is wandering around somewhere. It's been 5 months. Anything could have happened.

Either way, I'm going to bury him properly. A nice plot of dirt and a makeshift tombstone so people know my brother is dead and where his body is.

He was a good brother.

I'm gonna go out and look for him some more.

XX

9:22 pm

Spent the whole day biking around town looking for Pete and still no luck. I'm being thorough and careful as there are still a dangerous number of zombies about. One wrong move and I'm dead. Killed about 20 to 25 zombies today. I mostly avoid them, but if I'm searching a house it is necessary. Most of the houses here are empty.

I'm currently in the master bedroom of a second story house on the outskirts of town. Plenty of escape routes. We'll see how I go tomorrow.

Reading a book about the battle for Stalingrad in WW2 I found in someone's house a week ago. Reading by the moonlight. Not exactly uplifting reading. I can't believe how dismissive Hitler and Stalin were of their troops. I knew millions died, but I didn't realise they died so miserable in service of someone who either hated them or didn't care. Or both.

Life is so precious now. There's so few of us left.

I should find a different book.

Wish me luck for tomorrow.

I really hope I find Pete.


	24. Chapter 24

Captain's Log 28/9/2012: day 182, 8:30pm

Found him.

He was about 2 or 3 kilometres out of town dragging himself along the ground. His legs were missing and he was a ragged bloody mess. His torso was open and so much of what should be within a human body was missing. He was more bone than flesh. His torso was a canyon of ribs. His face was mostly gone (including his eyes) with barely a patch of skin left on him, but I knew it was him.

His long hair and stupid goatee were still intact...

I stood there in the sunshine watching my poor wretched brother pulling himself along the warming asphalt with blind undead murder in his eyes. The best I could do for him right then was not to hesitate any longer. I smashed his skull flat with an overhead chop of my axe.

I put him in a hessian sack and took him back to his house in his backyard where I buried him in the softest ground I could find. I found a sharpie pen inside his house and wrote down his name and years on a board which I stuck into the ground.

I'm am introvert. I didn't speak any words. I just stood there and cried and thought the eulogy and "ashes to ashes dust to dust" speech to myself in my own head. A monologue.

Peter was a nerd. He was a collector. Comics, books and movies from an early age and he had thousands of each. I'm not exaggerating. _Thousands._ And a musician. His guitars were his babies and he could play. Pete was a nerd for metal music. He got me onto it with Metallica's black album and Pantera's "Cowboy's From Hell". Until he did that, we didn't altogether have that much in common as there is (now was) a 6 year gap between us. He was in high school when I was in primary. He was in Uni when I was in high school. And so on.

Music was an important part of his life and he was in a band. His bad back meant he couldn't move much, but he'd let his hair out and I would mosh at the front to support him. As far as I knew Peter never had a long term girlfriend. I think his world was his world and he either didn't feel the desire to share it or simply didn't want to.

He was a very good school teacher. He was that teacher you could actually trust. He'd look out for you and tell you what you needed to hear, whether that was a lie or the cold truth. No one didn't like him. Everyone knew him. A key figure in a country town where everyone knows everyone one way or another.

He saved people. His neighbour down the road had a family and struggled with depression. Peter got him into music and the bass guitar and the camaraderie of a band improved his confidence no end. He did something similar for his band's frontman. He vouched for him to get a job not far from town and gave him a 'home base' so to speak when opportunity seemed so hard to find at the time.

Sitting in his living room and reading his comics was a strange experience. I was very sad, but it was a muted celebration of his life. I knew ever since that night 5 months ago that one way or another he was dead, but I didn't grieve. Now I have begun to do so. Quietly.

I plan to go back to the gym tomorrow and play on the drum kit that is still there. The gym should be very easy to secure again and organise escape routes should things turn hairy. Sitting next to his other guitars and seeing his floor to ceiling racks of CD's filled with all sorts of mainstream and obscure metal music, I'm itching to play an instrument I haven't touched in months.

It will be strange to hit that snare drum, listen to it ring hollow in the expanse of that gym and not hear him accompany me. Perhaps it won't, because that jam 5 months ago was only the second time we played together. He lived in the country 3 hours away from me in the city, so we didn't catch up properly much, let alone bring equipment along to jam.

I should have made more of an effort.

I miss him.

I miss my wife.

I miss my kids

I miss my whole family.

I miss my friends.

...

I miss my life.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Goodnight.


End file.
